Happily
by bicyclesarecool
Summary: Sophomore accounting major Bella Swan is stuck in a rut and too afraid to get herself out of it. Edward Cullen is a charming musician who seems to be up to the task to help-but will she let him?
1. chapter one

**chapter one**

It's a nice night—breezy for late summer and the sky is clear—which is really saying something for Forks. I check my phone, mostly to see what time it is but it does not escape my notice that I have an unread message from Jacob.

7:17.

I am two minutes late.

I shove my phone in the pocket of my black pants and pick up my pace, regretting wearing my new flats as I feel them rub uncomfortably against my heels. I can see the theater building, Fuller Hall, and the substantial number of patrons milling around outside, waiting for doors to open.

It's the final night of Forks College's performance of _Les Miserables_, the summer theater series' musical. Forks is a small liberal arts school in Washington state known for its outstanding dramatic arts program.

My best friend, Alice Brandon, is a costume design major and had volunteered her summer to work on the show. Not only did she design and help create all of what the actors were wearing tonight, she is the Front of House Manager, which is really very important, I suppose, as she deals with making sure everyone has tickets and are seated and ready to go as she flickers the lights to let them know that there are five minutes until the curtains swoosh open.

It's the last night of summer before incoming freshmen arrive on campus and their orientation leaders, who had helped usher the other performances, are busy getting everything prepared, leaving Alice desperate for anyone she could rope into helping out.

Which is where I come in.

Because I have a summer job at the library on campus, I was around and I had no reason to say no.

I take the steps two at a time, nearly falling on my face on the last leap, and swing the door open. The lobby is full of elderly patrons, wandering around slowly and talking too loudly to one another—the senior citizen population of the town of Forks takes advantage of the program more than the students at the school do. I weave my way through clusters of people and make it to the doors of the theater itself. The lights are on but dim and the rows of chairs are empty, the deep red curtain closed. I look around and don't see anyone, but I hear Alice's high, musical voice from beyond the sound booth. I walk quickly to where a group is gathered, all dressed identically to me with the exception of me missing a black "Forks College Theater and Dance" polo shirt. I feel myself burning red in my tank top.

"Oh, Bella is here! Take a seat, I'm just giving everyone their jobs," Alice says cheerfully and I apologize for being late. She brushes it off, no big deal. I sit down, not looking at anyone in the group but I can feel someone staring at me. I do my best to ignore it while Alice reads off names and duties.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Her query is met with silence. "Okay, everyone go ahead and get to your places—I'm opening the doors in seven minutes." As everyone stands up, she pulls me aside.

"Come on, let's get you a polo," she says, leading me out to the lobby and then into a small room across from the box office. It's cramped and too bright, a copier taking up most of the space. There's a box in the corner overflowing with black fabric. Alice digs through it until she finds my size and tosses the shirt to me.

"You look nice, "I say. She beams and puts on her _oh this old thing? _routine. She really does look nice in her sheer, black shirt dress and wedges that make her almost as tall as my own five feet four inches. She has the dress belted, showing off her small waist and her short, dark hair is twisted in pieces and pinned to the top of her head—done well enough to look like it hadn't been done at all. Her small, angular features are dusted in a shimmery bronzer—she looks like a fairy and she jingles as moves, multiple gold bangles sliding up and down her arm.

I pull the polo shirt over my head and smooth my hair back, feeling very plain next to Alice with my mousy brown ponytail.

Alice adjusts my collar before exclaiming that I am perfect and pushing me out the door.

I am in charge of passing out programs as patrons filter into the theatre. It's a simple job. I can handle it.

I reach my side of the double doors, taking a stack of programs from Alice and waiting for her to open the doors. A few moments later, a boy in a shirt that matches my own stands at the door next to mine. He is much taller than I am—at least a foot taller than me. His hair is a reddish brown color, bronze if I'm feeling dramatic, and stands up at an angle that insists he runs his long fingers through it far too much. His green eyes are bored, hidden behind a pair of thick framed glasses, the left lens holding a deep scratch. His pants are too faded and his shoes, though black, are not dressy like my flats.

I feel my stomach flip once and the door next to me opens with a _swoosh_. The people milling around the lobby look up and then down at their tickets and begin shuffling towards us. The boy meets my eyes briefly and I give him a small smile, no teeth showing. He does not return the gesture, but he raises an eyebrow instead.

I turn my focus on the gray haired man walking towards me, his hand out expectantly. I hand him the program and he goes inside, showing one of the ushers his ticket. The better part of the next ten minutes follows this process until an older woman comes to the door and jokingly looks panicked, her head turning towards me and then to the boy across from me, both of us extending programs to her.

"Oh, dear, who will I choose?" she says, her tone light. I grin exaggeratedly.

"Mine are better," I offer, playing along. The woman uses her whole body to shrug.

"Well if you insist." To the boy, she adds, "You better watch out, I think she's trying to steal all your business." His mouth turns up on one side, crookedly smiling at her ever so slightly as she walks inside.

"Is that true?" I hear him say, his voice gravelly and deep. "Are you trying to ruin me?"

"Oh, of course. That's why they sent me." He laughs quietly and my stomach lurches again. His laugh is a low rumble, scratchy like he's been coughing or smoking too much but it's a pleasant sound. Understated as far as laughs go. The room is suddenly too warm.

There's a lull in traffic—all of the early birds are seated and it's too soon for the fashionably late to show up. I have no idea what to talk to him about but my body is craving the

"So, what brings you here tonight? Are you a theatre major?"

"No," he says. "I'm a music major. Just doing a favor for a friend. What about you?"

"Same, Alice was desperate for help." He nods and doesn't say anything, but he keeps his eyes on mine. It's an intense stare—far too intense for this mundane conversation. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I don't know how to look away but then again, I'm not sure that I really want to. My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I know it's from Jake. The thought is enough to break the gaze. I keep my eyes trained on the front doors, desperate for a distraction.

This feeling in my chest, the quick pang of…something. It hurts in the best way, and I can't deny that there are butterflies in my stomach, my skin feels too tight and I just really want to know his name.

_Have I seen him before?_

I'm not new to campus, being a sophomore and all, but I can't place him. Forks is a small school—only about three thousand students total. There's a possibility that he's an incoming freshman but I really doubt it—he looks too old, too mature, too _rugged_.

I snap my head up, suddenly aware of where I am. Rugged? Jesus, what is happening to me? I sneak a glance. He's talking to one of the patrons, directing them to the bathroom. He's wearing a small smile and as the woman walks away, he runs a hand through his hair and his focus is back on me. He smiles again when he finds me looking at him, it happens so automatically he seems to be taken off guard.

"I'm Bella, by the way," I offer, reaching out my hand for him to shake. He looks amused.

"Edward." And when he shakes my hand I nearly fell over. The warm roughness is electric and the current goes straight to my chest and deep in my stomach. I'm sure my expression mirrors his—eyes wide, mouth parted. He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow.

At that moment, the next rush comes in and we have to go back to passing out programs.

But as we do, our eyes keep meeting and I know he felt it too.

* * *

><p>"Thank you <em>soooo<em> much, Bella," Alice says, pulling me into the room with the copier again so I can change my shirt. The show has started and my job is done, Alice had told me that I could stay for the show but I declined, knowing that Jake would be waiting up for me.

"Oh, it was really no big deal," I mumble, pulling the polo over my head and tossing it to her. Once I'm back to normal, my hair coming undone a bit more than when I started, Alice pulls the door open to find Edward standing right outside.

"Hey Alice, do you just want the shirts in that box?" he asks, pointing behind us. His eyes find mine and my cheeks burn. Alice says something back but I don't hear her. All I see is green under glass.

Alice begins having a lengthy conversation with him and I squeeze past her and when I get to the door, he scoots over a little so I can leave but I feel his hand brush my arm. I look at him over my shoulder and he's flexing his hand, my arm burns where he's touched me.

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><p><strong>weeeeee next chapter up soon, i'm hoping to update twice a week. <strong>

**i'd love to hear what you think so far **


	2. chapter two

**wow thank you so much for all of your reviews, you're all amazing.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>chapter two<strong>

When I pull into my gravel driveway ten minutes later, I let out the breath I've been holding. I feel too wired and anxious to go in and face my dad. My house suddenly seems threatening, even though it's narrow and the white siding is fading—unchanged since my parents bought it in the 90s when they first got married and then divorced. There is only one light on that I can see through the large window on the first floor, illuminating the living room where my dad paces, phone pressed to his ear. I'm sure it's my mom based on the look of stress on his face. He turns and his eyes widen when he sees my car parked in the driveway.

I am caught—forced to come inside and relieve him from my mom's unending ranting. I turn my truck off, the noisy rumble of the ancient engine cutting into a too sudden silence.

"Mom wants to talk to you," he mutters, thrusting the phone at me and retreating into the kitchen. She's already speaking when I press the phone to my ear.

"How was the play, Bella?" she asks, and I imagine her sitting on her old, blue velvet chair, picking at the tear on the arm like she used to when I was little.

"Oh, I just had to pass out programs. Boring really," I sigh, leaning on the door frame. My heels sting and my toes are pinched in my shoes. Upstairs there is a warm bath and a book waiting for me, but before I can escape, Renee speaks again.

"I sold an article yesterday," she says, her voice expectant of my praise.

"That's great Mom. The one on the facial cleansers?" Renee is a freelancer, mostly for magazines like Cosmo but they aren't national. She's usually working the circuit in Washington or doing some blogs or other sites.

"That's the one," she says excitedly and I congratulate her again. "I'll send you the link to the website it's on. They didn't pay me a lot for it but I think it will get my name out there more…" she continues talking, though it's mostly to herself as per usual. Right now she's living in a really shitty studio apartment in a really shitty neighborhood of Tacoma with her boyfriend. I haven't visited her in a really long time, mostly because they don't have anywhere for me to stay. She claims she needs the city life to keep her creative juices flowing. I always roll my eyes.

My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, bringing me back to the room and my mom's voice on the phone. She's still talking, not even aware that I haven't said anything for a while.

"Hey mom," I interrupt. "I think Jake wants me to call him, so I'll talk to you later."

She sighs, as expected. She doesn't like Jake.

"I thought you two broke up." Now it's my turn to sigh.

"We did but it's complicated," I say because it is.

"Stop wasting your time on that boy, Bella." I sense a lecture coming so I try to speed this up.

"Bye, love you!" I blurt out and I don't even wait for her to say it back before hanging up. Charlie wanders back into the room at that point, detecting that it's safe again.

"She's just as crazy as ever," I mutter. Charlie shrugs slowly and sits down, flipping the TV on. I make my way upstairs, peeling my shoes off as soon as I reach my bedroom, practically moaning with relief.

I stretch out on my bed, pulling out my phone and scrolling through the texts I got from Jacob. Most are just saying to call him when I'm done or to just meet him at home—he and his friends are going down to the beach for an end of summer bonfire. The last message is a picture of him and some of the guys but there are a couple of girls there too, one of them with her arms around his neck, hanging onto his back, the bonfire in the background. I recognize her vaguely. I think her name is Lauren or Leah or something.

The sight of it makes my stomach burn with jealousy. I know he did it on purpose and it doesn't mean anything—in the three months that we've been broken up he's done a lot to try and make me jealous but he's upped it lately. I feel like it's mostly because we've been talking about getting back together and he's trying to speed that process along.

I sigh, unsure if I should call him. I don't want to deal with him being obnoxious right now but I really miss the sound of his voice.

I decide to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Disappointed, I decide to go take a warm bath and read the terrible historical romance novel that Alice recommended as I soak. The steam rises around me and I take deep breaths.

I've almost forgotten about Jacob by the time I'm done that I'm surprised to find a voicemail waiting for me when I get back to my room.

"Hey, Bells," he begins. There's a lot of noise in the background so it's a little hard to hear him. "Sorry I missed your call, my phone was dead and I just got it plugged in. I wish I could've seen you tonight. Everyone was asking about you. I miss you, I hope I get to see you tomorrow. Hope the play went well, goodnight."

His voice sounds warm and it makes me exhale shakily. We broke up because we had dated for so long and we were worried that we needed to see what else was out there. But it's hard to stop loving someone after three years of intimacy and affection. It seems inevitable that we'll come back together soon—we both can't stand to not be with each other.

Once I put my phone on my bedside table and plug it in to charge, I lay back on my pillows, feeling light and loved but later on, my arm burns in the dark and I make myself think of Jacob's brown eyes and big smile as I fall asleep.

But I dream of green anyways.

* * *

><p>I spend the last days of my summer vacation split between the library, Jake and packing. Though I <em>do<em> only live ten minutes from Forks' campus, I chose to live at school. My dad is the chief of police at the college so I get free tuition and room and board. I had wanted to go away to school, somewhere in California maybe, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

I'm in my room now, the window open and letting in the warm, sunny air as I box up the last of my things. I have a record player sitting in the middle of my room—it had belonged to my dad back in the day—and I'm humming along with Nico's voice. As soon as I tape the box closed, Jacob is standing in my doorway, looking around the room apprehensively. I smile at him, he takes up most of the door frame. Though he's not really built in any way—he's still a gangly kid—he's so tall. If his dark hair wasn't cropped so close to his head, he would almost touch the top of the door frame.

"Don't give me that face," I warn, standing up and pulling my hair into a loose ponytail.

"I'm just going to miss you," he mumbles and I have to stop my eyes from rolling.

"I'm not going to be far—it'll be just like last year," I say reassuringly. His brow remains furrowed. I decide to distract him from this funk—it's the last day before I move back in and I don't need him sulking. Jake goes to the community college near his home in La Push—about a half hour from my college. It's a pain in the ass to drive it but we made it work last year.

I want to bring up the fact that it doesn't matter because we aren't even dating anymore but I bite my tongue because I know it will start an argument.

"Are you ready to go to the beach?" I ask, reaching for my bag, avoiding it all together.

It's a hot day and the water is the perfect relief from lying out on the sand, playing cards with Jake's friends. We eat hotdogs cooked over a fire for dinner and eat s'mores for dessert. Jake drives me home and I feel like he wants to kiss me in his old Volkswagen but he doesn't so I go inside, mumbling a quick goodbye. My limbs are tired from the heat and the swimming so I fall asleep easily, unable to decide if I'm quite ready to go back to school.

When I pull up to my dorm, Rosalie Hale is already there, standing next to her mom's SUV and no doubt directing a Forks football player on where to take her stuff for her. When she sees me, she squeals and waves her hands wildly, as if she needs to get my attention.

When I get out of the truck's cab and make my way over to her, she wraps me in a huge hug, her long, strawberry blonde hair suffocating me. When she's finished, she holds me at arm's length, looking me over.

"You look _great_!" she exclaims and I give her a small, embarrassed smile. The football player she was talking to earlier is staring at us.

"Oh please," I mumble, because really. I'm in old cut off shorts and one of Jacob's t-shirts. She on the other hand is in a very chic mint green tank top, tucked into white shorts, emphasizing her long, tanned legs. I remember her telling me she was going to be spending a few weeks in the Bahamas in July.

Even though I spent plenty of time outside with Jake over the summer, my skin seemed paper white next to hers.

"Okay," she begins. "This room is much bigger than the one we had last year, and I am so glad we get our own bathroom this time. Alice is already moved in next door but her roommate hasn't gotten here yet. Oh, I just _have_ to show you the curtains my mother bought us—so perfect. I missed you _so_ much."

I smile and put an arm around her as we walk into the dorm. Rose is from upstate New York, majoring in international business and I have no idea why she had chosen to come here of all places, but I'm glad she did. We grew really close last year and I don't know what I would do without her.

She's right, the room _is_ larger than the one we had last year but still not _large_. As sophomores, we're allowed to live in Brighton Hall, or the sophomore suites as everyone calls them. Each suite consists of two dorm rooms connected by a bathroom. Our beds are raised and on opposite ends of the room, nothing underneath them. There are two closets on either side of the door, though one is smaller to accommodate the bathroom door and desks at the ends of our beds. The floor is a drab grey tile, the walls a white brick.

"I know it's depressing right now, but we'll make it lovely. Did you bring the futon?" I nod. At the beginning of the summer, before she left for home, we bought a futon off of a girl who lived down the hall from us. It's white and yellow and perfect for our weekly movie nights.

"Great, I brought the TV." And almost on cue the football player comes in the room carrying the small flat screen TV, setting it down on a desk and leaving to go get more. Rose and I laugh.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, finding it strange I haven't yet seen them.

"Oh, I don't know. They went to the campus center for this presentation, I think," she says distractedly, turning towards a box already sitting in the corner of the room.

"Shall we get started?"

* * *

><p>Thanks to the football players, we get most of my stuff in the room in less than twenty minutes. The futon proves to be a challenge but eventually it works its way to its new home under my bed. The TV is under Rose's bed on a small coffee table she had brought. The mini fridgemicrowave combo we rented is set up next to it.

When Rose's parents come back they fuss over me up and I smell Chanel perfume when Mrs. Hale hugs me tightly. She's so sophisticated and so normal that I burn with jealousy. My mom doesn't wear perfume and she's never come to visit me at school. Instead she sends me care packages filled with cacti and weird teas and dollar store generic food. The Hales ask me how my summer has been and I ask about the Bahamas. They don't stay long—they want to go to dinner and then turn in early—they have a six a.m. flight.

At some point later, Alice finally returns and we all have a very girlish moment of screeching and hugging.

"Oh thank God, I've missed us," Alice cries, throwing her arms around our shoulders. We spend a few more minutes mooning over each other and begin to discuss how to spend our first evening back.

"You know, Delta Sig is having a back-to-campus party tonight," Rose says, smirking suggestively.

"You just want to see Emmett," I mutter, suddenly feeling anxious. Rose and Alice won't let me get out of this party—not tonight. Jacob wanted to hang out in my room and he definitely won't want to go to the party.

"Oh, who's that again?" she sighs, her voice obnoxiously nonchalant and aloof. Alice rolls her eyes.

"Did you talk to him at all this summer?" Alice asks, collapsing on the futon and pulling out her phone. Mine buzzes in my pocket.

_Call me when you're all settled. Sorry I couldn't help today.-J_

I put off responding for just a while longer.

"He sent me a message on Facebook _once_ but I think he was drunk." Her cheeks actually turn a little pink. Alice glances up from her scrolling and smirks.

"Are we sure we want to go to Delta Sig? According to this Forks gossip thing, the soccer house is having a thing tonight too…" I can hear the wicked tone in her voice. Rosalie freezes.

"W-well. That's an option too, I suppose," she stammers, flustered. Alice sits up quickly.

"Just admit it—you like him."

Rose crosses her arms over her chest.

"Fine, we're going to the soccer house then," Alice sings, getting up and heading towards her room.

"I LIKE HIM, OKAY? HE IS VERY HOT AND HE IS VERY FUNNY AND I KIND OF HATE HIM," Rose roars and when she's finished I cannot stop my laughter. Alice is clapping and shouting _bravo_ in a very dramatic way.

"I'm going to go take a shower now," Rose snaps, grabbing her stuff from her closet. We each blow her a kiss.

"So. About tonight," I say to Alice slowly. Her gaze hardens.

"You _have _to go, Bella. You need to get out sometimes. Wasn't the whole point of this break up to see what else is out there?" she says and I know that she will be unyielding to this issue. I nod.

"You call Jacob; I'm going to see if my roommate is here yet." And with that, Alice closes the door, leaving me alone with an impending argument. My phone weighs heavy in my pocket.

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><p><strong>i miss edward let's bring him back soon<strong>


	3. chapter three

**hi thank you all for your kind reviews xx**

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><p><strong>chapter three<strong>

Alice's roommate is a short, curvy girl with a loud voice like a shaken can of soda. Her hair is on the frizzy side of curly and is currently pulled up into a tall ponytail. She introduces herself as Jessica Stanley from Vancouver.

I regard her warily.

Alice seems to like her just fine though and is fussing over her outfit, helping her pick out the perfect accessories to wear out tonight. Then again, Alice would do this with anyone. The whole time, Jessica is talking about anything and everything. I sit at Alice's desk chair, tugging at my too small faded shorts and trying to ignore the fact that I am not wearing a shirt.

Rosalie is digging through Alice's closet trying to find me a top, kicking my discarded t-shirt out of the way.

"I don't know who I'm trying to impress," I mumble. My stomach drops at the thought of Jacob's disapproving tone when I told him my plans for the evening, his disappointment at not seeing me.

"Just be careful," he sighed but his voice wavered enough to let me know that he was worried about more than just my safety.

"You're not trying to impress _anyone_, Bella," Alice scolds. "You are going out with your girls and you are going to look hot for you." I roll my eyes.

"Try this!" Rose calls and tosses me a soft, light pink shirt. I hold it up and scrutinize the flowy material and appreciate the high neckline.

Once I pull it on and feel the breeze over my abdomen, I can see what the neckline is compensating for.

"Oh, Rose, I can't—" but I'm cut off by a low whistle.

"Damn, Bella, have you been working out?" Rose says, hands on her hips as she appraises my outfit.

I blush, fidgeting with the hem of my shorts self-consciously.

"Are we almost ready to go? It's already ten," I say, trying to change the subject.

Rose laughs and pulls me out the door.

"I need a drink and a big dumb jock in my life, like yesterday," she says and we are on our way.

* * *

><p>Delta Sig's house is one of the farthest frats from the main part of campus, so it takes us a while to walk over. This also means that it's less likely to get busted by the campus police a.k.a. my father. The house is packed by the time we arrive, music blasting and people smoking on the front porch.<p>

We go straight to the basement, where none other than Emmett McCarty is sitting behind the makeshift bar, handing out cheap beer and shots. Rose takes a pull from the monogrammed flask she's been keeping in her pocket and hands it me. It smells like sunscreen and I take a drink. Rum. Ugh.

"Well, well, well," Emmett says loudly, his attention solely on Rosalie Hale—who has just fluffed her hair and stuck out her chest before making her way towards him. I have to hold in my laugh. Rosalie has always been like this around Emmett, ever since the first party they met at last winter. Their relationship is about her making him want her and then keeping him at an arm's length while he shamelessly hits on her and picks petty arguments with her to see her get mad because he thinks it's funny.

"You look like you could use a shot," he drawls and she leans across the bar.

"Hook me up, Em." I swear to God she actually purrs this at him. Alice is suddenly beside me and giggling.

We interrupt their tête à tête to grab some beers, and Emmett smiles warmly at us. I've always liked him—yes, he's a huge football playing frat boy, but he also goes out of his way to say hello to me if we see each other around campus and though he and Rosalie talked a big talk, he's always looked out for her at these parties and hasn't ever taken advantage of her, much to her constant disappointment.

"It's just, I haven't gotten him out of my system yet, you know?" she had shouted earlier today, as she was blow drying her hair. "Once I get him bed, he'll be out of my head." She laughed at the rhyme, but repeated it a few times to herself throughout the day, like it was her new mantra.

Seeing them together now though, her cheeks are flushed and she keeps leaning closer to him as he smiles hugely at her. He has eyes for no one else.

It's just a matter of _when_.

"Let's go find, Jess," Alice says in my ear, pulling me away from the sexual tension in front of us. I follow her upstairs where music is making the walls shake and someone nearly knocks my beer out of my hand. Jessica is in the back corner, a drink already in her hand and a guy wrapped around her waist. When she sees us, she grins and mouths _oh my God!_ as she points exaggeratedly at the blonde guy grinding on her.

"Wanna play some pong?" Alice asks, pointing to the table on the other end of the room. She looks vaguely bored. The current game looks like it's finishing up. We exchange a glance and make our way over.

Twenty minutes later, Alice and I are dominating two sloppy Delta Sig boys, who are getting drunker by the minute. Alice is actually taking drinks from her own beer, thirsty. When we finally put them out of their misery, they shout for a rematch but we go off in search of Rose or Jess—whoever we can find first. Jessica is still dancing with the blonde guy, Rose is nowhere to be found, and Emmett is no longer handing out drinks.

Edward is.

My mouth goes dry and my palms start to sweat. Alice lets out a low whistle and I feel my vision go green for a second.

Edward is _here_. And Edward is laughing at something that I can't see because of the crowd.

But then Edward is looking at me and my heart jumps into my throat, trying to burst its way out to get to him.

"Oh, Edward is _gorgeous_ isn't he? He actually makes that whole grunge thing look good," Alice mutters and she's right. His black pants are torn and faded and he's wearing a flannel shirt that's too big for him, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

His forearms are so nice.

And because his forearms are nice I know the rest of him is nice and I feel a pang in my lower abdomen.

I am in deep trouble.

Edward smiles at me and suddenly the room isn't loud and the crowd is gone and Edward's smile is the only thing that matters.

I make my way towards him and he holds out a shot of something to me, I take it and try not to cough as it burns my throat on the way down.

"Hi," he breathes. I ask for another shot. He throws me a crooked smile and pours me one, sliding it over to me. We maintain eye contact as I throw it back and he laughs when my face twists up.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my face warm and head growing fuzzy.

"Emmett," he says with a shrug. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Rosalie." He laughs at my response.

"How are you?" he asks.

"Good, how are you?"

"I'm good."

We don't say anything for a little bit, we just smile at each other and my heart is pounding. His eyes are intense and his hair curls a little around the collar of his shirt. I want to ask him what his favorite color is and where he feels most at home and what he thinks about when he looks at the ocean.

I lick my lips and Alice kicks my foot with hers, snapping me out of…whatever's happening right now. A group of girls make their way up to the bar and take his attention away as he gets them drinks.

"Um, hello what's going on?" Alice hisses at me.

"Nothing!" I whisper-yell back, my cheeks flaming. She rolls her eyes.

"We're gonna need more shots," she tells me, grabbing the bottle and shaking her head.

* * *

><p>"No, no, no, Bella that is a <em>terrible<em> song," Edward groans from beside me. He, Alice and I have been sitting behind the bar for about an hour now, talking and drinking. Alice is bleary eyed next to me, staring out at the crowd with an amused expression on her face, while I argue with Edward.

"It's a _fantastic _song, I love it, I want it on a loop during my funeral," I slur and he rolls his eyes. In all honesty, I have completely forgotten what song we are discussing with such intensity but I like to see him so riled up, so I keep goading him.

"Just admit you love it," I say. "It's okay to let your hipster wall down, I won't judge."

He laughs loudly.

"You're drunk," he says, turning to look at me.

"_You're_ drunk," I throw back at him.

"But not nearly as drunk as you," he claims matter-of-factly. He's wearing his glasses again and I want to take them off to see his green eyes unclouded by the dirty lenses. He scrutinizes me for a moment before he stands up. I begin to panic. Is he leaving?

"You should go home," he says, and holds out his hand for me to grab. When I do, I feel that same warm electricity I did when I shook his hand at the theatre. He holds on longer than is probably necessary before he moves on to pulling Alice up as well. She stumbles into him.

"I'll walk you guys," he says and keeps one arm around Alice's waist to keep her on her feet. His free hand makes its way to my lower back, where my shirt doesn't quite reach. I burn under his touch.

"We need to find Rose and Jess," I hear myself say suddenly and I'm looking around the room.

"Rose left with Emmett a while ago."

"Okay, just Jessica then." And when we find her, she's making out with the guy she was grinding on earlier.

"Go on without me," she says dramatically after I've tapped her on the shoulder. "Mike will take…good care of me." We leave her laughing with him and I can't help but roll my eyes at her demeanor.

The air is thick outside, the stars hidden by the incoming clouds. It's going to rain at any moment. Alice suddenly is laughing her giddy drunken laugh.

"Rosalie and Emmett are gonna fu-uh-uck," she sings, stumbling away from Edward and hip thrusting her way down the sidewalk.

I cannot stop the hysterical giggles that bubble up my throat. We have to stop walking as I double over in laughter, Alice doing the same, practically rolling on the ground. Rain is starting to fall.

I look up and Edward is watching us—well, me mostly—with an amused smile on his face.

"Come on," he says as we catch our breath. "Let's get you drunks home."

It takes twice as long as it should to get to our dorm because Alice pukes in the bushes out front of the campus center. Her hair is pinned up so I don't have to hold it but I rub circles on her back until it passes. She takes a few deep breaths and gets to her feet. Edward puts his arm back around her waist and we continue slowly on.

"I am so so so so so sorry," Alice says about nine hundred times the rest of the way back. Edward shakes his head each time and I tell her to stop it. His hair is starting to look darker from the rain and it's flopping into his face. He runs his free hand through it hopelessly. I can't stop looking at him.

When we finally get back to Brighton, I pull out my key card and get us into the building. We have to go up a flight of stairs to get to our room and Edward is practically carrying Alice, her eyes heavy with sleep.

We get Alice in my room and lay her down on the futon, Edward makes her drink some water while I grab some blankets from her bed for her. When I get her all tucked in, I put her bottle of water on the table next to the futon and find some Advil, leaving that too—just in case. Once I know she's all settled, I turn my attention to Edward. He's watching me, the smallest of smiles on his full lips.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing, you're just…sweet," he says simply. I blush and he takes a few steps towards me.

"It was really nice talking to you tonight, Bella." His voice is low. "Even though you have terrible taste in music."

"It was nice talking to you, too, Edward," I say, yawning his name. He chuckles.

"I'll let you go to bed now." And suddenly he's opening the door.

"Do you live in this building?" I blurt out, too loudly.

"No, I live over by Delta Sig. I'm renting a house there with Emmett and a few other guys actually," he says, rubbing his neck.

"Oh my god and you walked us all the way back here?" I say, suddenly feeling horrible for putting him out. He shrugs.

"I wanted to make sure you got home okay."

"Oh, well, thank you," I say quietly. He turns to leave, whispering a soft _goodnight_.

I watch him go down the hallway and when he's out of sight, I go to the window and wait for him to make his way outside. I stare at him as he walks down the street, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. I stay at the window until he turns a corner, and then I get ready for bed.

Once I am under the covers, my phone vibrates in my hand and I scroll past the numerous messages from Jake. I don't feel like answering him right now and thanks to the alcohol, I sleep well and far into the morning.

I wake up with a slight headache and fingers cramped, still curled around my phone.

Alice stirs from under my bed.

I start reading the messages from Jake from last night and early this morning, each one growing more and more irritated and uneasy that I am being so unresponsive.

"Uggggghhh," Alice groans loudly.

I feel the same way, but not from a hangover as I pull my pillow over my head, wishing I could just fall back into last night.

* * *

><p><strong>weeeeee thank goodness bae is back <strong>


	4. chapter four

**thank you thank you thank you for reading and reviewing. **

* * *

><p><strong>chapter four<strong>

Eventually, Alice rouses me from bed, telling me that she's going to shower first and that we should get some food once we're all cleaned up. I take advantage of this time to call Jacob.

"_What _happened, Bella?" he grounds out, answering almost immediately. "I was so worried, I almost called your dad."

I cringe at the thought of my dad sending out a search party only to find me drunk at a fraternity house. I can almost see the shade of purple his face would turn.

"Oh my god, Jake," I groan and annoyance seeps into my tone. "I'm sorry, I was at a party with my friends and I couldn't text you every five seconds. You don't need to get my _dad_ involved. I'm almost twenty years old for Christ's sake. _And_, we are _not_ dating so I'm not obligated to call you."

His silence on the other end is excruciating and when he responds, his voice is too quiet.

"I'm sorry; I was just worried about you. It's not like you not to answer. You're usually texting me how bored you are."

I sigh. He's right. I hate parties and I'm typically sending him text upon text about how much fun I'm _not_ having.

"Last night was different, Jake," I say. "I was having a good time.

"Oh yeah?" he says. I tell him all about my night, but I hesitate when I get to the part about Edward. Will he be jealous? Do I want to play dirty?

"We ran into one of Alice's friends and hung out with him for a while—he actually made sure we got home okay, which was really nice of him," I explain. Jacob accepts this and starts talking to me about his night and his upcoming plans for the day, right up until Alice pops her head in the room to tell me I can have the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Alice and I are sitting down in the campus center's dining hall, plates full of eggs and bacon, when we see Rosalie sulk into the room, oversized sunglasses covering her eyes and a t-shirt way too big for her hanging over her slender frame. She must see us because she sinks down into the chair next to Alice and takes a big drink of her orange juice. Alice gives her an irritated look but doesn't stop her when she steals a piece of bacon.<p>

"So, where did you disappear to last night?" I ask casually. Rosalie rubs her temples and pushes her sunglasses up. Mascara is smudged under her eyes.

"I went back to Emmett's," she says and takes a bite of my eggs.

"And?" I prompt.

"Nothing happened," she sighed. "I was super drunk and we made out a little but that's it. He slept in his bed with me but we didn't do anything worth mentioning." Her disappointment is palpable.

We spend the rest of breakfast discussing and dissecting every single thing that Emmett said and did, Rose blushing the whole time. I'm about to get up to put my plate on the dishwasher and grab a to-go cup of coffee when Alice turns her attention to me.

"So, you and Edward last night." It isn't a question. I feel myself reddening.

"What about me and Edward?" I manage, as casually as I can.

"You two seemed to be enjoying each other a lot," she points out, sipping her orange juice innocently.

"Wait what? Who's Edward?" Rosalie asks through another bite of Alice's food.

"No one," I mumble.

"Edward Masen. He's friends with Ben," Alice explains. Ben Cheney is a stage management major and shares a lot of classes with her. Rosalie's eyes flash with recognition.

"Oh my god does he live with Emmett?" I nod. Rose continues. "I saw him this morning when I was leaving—he's so cute. In that out-on-the-street-begging-for-change kind of way, though. So what happened last night?"

"Nothing!" I say in exasperation. "The three of us just hung out and then he walked us back to Brighton."

"And they were totally flirting," Alice pipes in.

"We were not," I snap. "Besides, I'm probably getting back with Jake."

Alice and Rosalie both roll their eyes.

"Oh yes, _Jacob_," Rose sighs and I stick my tongue out at her. "How long can you two hang onto each other?"

"A long time," I say indignantly and I step away from the table, leaving them behind to call after me.

The whole conversation has made me feel incredibly guilty for some reason. Jacob was my first kiss when I was fourteen, my first boyfriend right after and we spent almost five years together. I don't know when it began to fall apart but when Jacob suggested we take a break a few months ago, I was hurt. He kept his distance for a few weeks but we eventually decided to be friends, to see if maybe things could go back to how they were.

But it doesn't feel right. I don't know. I'm desperate for him but we still hold each other at an arm's length. Neither of us knows what to do and neither of us wants to take the first step. We're both stubborn as hell and scared to a fault.

Besides, Edward Masen is just a little crush—if that.

I push Edward out of my head. I have decided to forget him.

I call Jacob on my way back to my dorm, sipping coffee and talking to him about nothing important and he's got me laughing.

I am happy.

* * *

><p>Later on, I'm stepping into the overly air conditioned library. The small café in the lobby is packed with students milling around and I basically have to push past them into the actual library itself, grateful to be away from the noise of the crowd. One of the girls who work the circulation desk, Angela, says hi to me when she sees me.<p>

"How's your first day back going so far?" I ask.

"Can't complain, I've been here for far too long though," she sighs. "Mondays are a six hour shift and I'm only half way done."

I groan sympathetically.

"How was your summer, Bella?" she asks politely. I like Angela, she's friendly and relatively outgoing, which makes her insanely easy to talk to.

"It was okay, I worked here a lot. Hung around at the beach. You?"

"Oh, I ended up roadtripping with a couple of girls from home. We drove out to see the Grand Canyon. We ran out of gas like five miles outside of a town though so we had to hike along the road at like six in the morning to get more. It was awful," she laughs and I feel a tinge of jealousy at how much fun it seems like she. But there's also relief because that sounds terrifying. Very risky. Not my thing.

"Oh my god, that's so funny. My shift is starting soon so I'll see you later, Ang," I say and make my way to the back room and to the elevator. Once I'm inside, I swipe my ID on the card reader and hit the 2R button.

I work in the periodicals department, which means I deal with all the newspapers, magazines and academic journals that come through. Periodicals Processing is in the center of the second floor of the library. It's dusty and dim from the lack of windows and hardly anyone passes through unless they work in the department.

That being said, Periodicals is made up of one other person besides me.

Esme, who I say hello to when the elevator doors open, is my manager. She smiles warmly at me from her cubicle at the other end of the room.

"Hello, Bella! How are you?" she asks kindly. Esme is in her mid-thirties and has been in charge of this department since she graduated from Forks herself and has been nothing but nice to me since I started last spring.

"Just fine. And yourself?" I ask, setting my stuff down next to my desk.

"Some new books came back from the bindery this morning, I left them over there," Esme swivels in her chair to point to the long table near the door. Three stacks crows the table's surface and I resist the urge to crack my knuckles and mutter _let's get to work_.

"Are you ready for classes to start?" Esme asks after a while. She's got some soft acoustic radio station playing and I hear her typing away at her keyboard. I pause my stamping and sealing, feeling a sense of nervousness hit me.

"I guess so," I begin, sighing. "I've really only taken my pre-reqs so far. Not a lot of accounting classes."

"That's exciting though!" Esme says, always the sunny voice of optimism.

Suddenly, I want to cry. I'm not entirely sure why my eyes are burning at this conversation—it's one I've had a million times. That standard small talk for any college student.

_What are you studying? Oh, accounting? That's so great; you'll have no problem finding a job. _

And I always feel proud of myself. I've picked a steady career path and I'm pretty good at math. I'll be fine, life should be easy to plan out. I'm determined to not end up like my mother—living pay check to pay check (however few and far between they are).

I don't tell Esme any of this, instead I tell her that it _is_ exciting.

And then I let the conversation drift into silence and I go back to work.

* * *

><p><strong>I leave for a week's vacation on Friday, so i'm hoping to have another chapter up before then.<strong>


	5. chapter five

**here it is! i hope it's okay!**

* * *

><p><strong>chapter five<strong>

My first course Monday morning is Financial Accounting. It starts at nine and Professor Reeser is a short, round woman with pin straight hair and a pinched expression on her face. She makes us say our name, hometown and major and then tell her something interesting we did over the summer. I fidget uncomfortably in my seat as everyone goes around the room, mentioning trips to Europe and music festivals and spontaneous weeks spent at warmer beaches outside of Washington.

When it's my turn, I say that I went boating. No one gives a jealous sigh like they had with some of the others. I look at my hands. The only boating I did was when my dad took me fishing with him for Father's Day. I didn't even catch a fish.

Professor Reeser hands out the syllabus and starts going over it, her voice is high but it's all nasally and as she drones on and on, reading word for word what we could read on our own, I feel myself start to deflate. The class doesn't seem hard but it does seem really boring. While there aren't a lot of papers to write, there's a lot of homework and it all looms over me as a big, tedious cloud. This is going to be my entire year. My entire life.

My next class of the day, some generic math course, is not any better. I don't know anyone in the class, though a few faces look vaguely familiar. I sit quietly while we go over the syllabus and I check my phone for texts from Jake. His day is going a lot better; he's taking general courses until he can save enough money to go to a tech college for auto repair in Port Angeles and they're really easy apparently.

When I'm finally let go, I start heading to the campus center to meet Rose for lunch. It's a nice day, just a little cloudy and not terribly hot. I avoid eye contact with many of the students in front of me. They're lounging in front of the library and on the hill by the science building, laughing and reading and I feel out of place and very anxious and I'm not sure why. My throat tightens and my breathing gets shaky, I feel like I might be on the verge of a panic attack but before I can even think of ways to calm myself down, I'm running into something solid and warm.

It's a person.

A boy.

I look up.

And it's Edward Cullen.

Goddammit.

"Oof," is all he gets out as he stumbles backwards, his hands wrapping around my elbows to steady himself. My skin burns at the contact and I feel a blush bloom up my neck and rise to my cheeks.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," I sputter.

"It's fine," Edward laughs and I have to look away from the way his grin lights up his whole face. I see a stack of papers floating to the ground and a blond guy with a trendy haircut and ripped jeans scrambling to pick them up.

"Oh here, let me help, this was all my fault," I say, getting down on my knees and scraping my fingertips against the pavement to gather the papers. Edward squats down next to me and does the same, though his amusement is a stark contrast to how flustered I am.

Blonde boy sighs next to me and I glance at him. His hair is shaved on the sides but really long on top, flopping over his eyes. His jawline is soft, he's got a boyish look to him. A stark contrast from the hard edges and angles that make up Edward's face.

"I'm really sorry," I say and he glances up at me and shrugs.

"Don't worry about Jasper," Edward tells me.

"I wasn't," I say quickly, defensively.

"Sure," he mutters, still smiling. His eyes are even greener than they were the last time I saw him, though to be fair this is the most light I've ever seen him in at all.

"What are these, anyway?" I ask, my anxiety starting to dissipate little by little as I finally actually look at the papers.

"Flyers. Our band is playing at Blackstone's on Saturday," he says, running his free hand through his hair, the daylight showing off the blonde mixed in with the copper waves.

"Your band?" I clarify, both of us standing up, hands shuffling papers into even stacks before passing them off to him.

"Yeah, me and Jasper and Ben Cheney? Here," he says, handing me a single flyer back. I study it carefully.

"Avenir?" I ask at seeing the band's name.

"It's French for future," Jasper cuts in. He's even taller than Edward is; I'm seeing that as he makes his way over to us.

"Oh. That's cool," I say, still studying it. Music starts at seven, five dollar cover charge.

"You should come," Edward says, a small smile forming on his face.

"Yes, bring your friends," Jasper adds and I notice that his voice has a slight southern twang to it. "If you want you can take some of these to your classes and pass them out and—"

"Jasper," Edward says, cutting him off. I let out a nervous laugh as Rosalie spots us from across the street, making her way over to us.

"You don't have to do any of that. Just come to the show. I'd love to see you there," he says, dimples showing on his cheeks and his voice so sincere that it feels like a punch in the stomach. My chest flutters and I take in a shaky breath.

"See her where?" Rose asks, her voice is giddy and it makes my skin feel tight. Edward hands her a flyer.

"Interesting. Do they card?"

"Not usually," Edward smirks.

"We'll think about it," Rose smirks back and pulls me along to the campus center, her perfectly manicured fingernails digging into my forearm.

"We're not going, are we?" I whisper, anxiety crashing over me.

"Of course we're going. But we don't want to look overly eager," Rose replies as we climb the stairs to the dining hall.

"Rose we can't go!" I cry.

"Oh, we are _definitely_ going. He basically personally invited you. He would _looooove _to see you there. Plus, can you imagine seeing Edward playing…whatever instrument he plays? I bet he's the drummer. But I could see him as a bassist too. I wonder if he sings…"

"Oh god," I groan as she continues her musings all the way through the pizza line and then through the salad bar, contemplating genres as she scoops tomatoes and cucumbers onto her plate.

"I bet it's some kind of rock. Could be more indie or more punk, really his hair and shirt combos could go either way."

"Will you stop talking about it?" I say, exasperated.

"Talking about what?" a voice says from behind us as we start making our way to a table. It's Jessica, Alice's roommate. Her hair is still painfully frizzy and her clothes are too bright for my mood. I don't really feel like talking to her right now but she sits down across from us. I don't answer her question and neither does Rose because Jessica squeals at the sight of the flyer sticking out from under Rose's plate.

"Edward gave me one of those flyers too!" she says and I resist the urge to duck my head at the volume of her voice.

"Are you guys going? I am _soooo_ going. Edward is so cute."

I feel sick, suddenly.

"What about Mike?" I ask and Rosalie gives me a look out of the corner of her eye. Jessica doesn't know me well enough to notice the subtle harshness of my tone.

"Mike Schmike. When Edward Cullen hands you an invitation to see his band play, no one else compares," she sighs dreamily. "So I'm definitely going. I'm going to look so hot and he's gonna fall in love with me right then and there."

Rosalie resists a snort while I try to force a smile.

"Are you guys going?" she asks excitedly. "I need some wing women!"

"Oh, I don't—" Rose begins but I cut her off.

"Yes. Yes, we are going."

Definitely going.

"Yay! Okay, I'm gonna get food, I'll be right back." When she leaves, Rose turns to me, pizza in hand.

"Hello? What was that?" she laughs. "Jealous much? What about your lover boy, Jake?"

It's like a bucket of cold water.

I'm thrown back into remembering talking to Jake today and how awful class was. I feel myself start to sink back into that sadness, that boredom. I had forgotten it during the whole exchange with Edward and the following discussion, it was almost like none of it existed.

But it does.

And I'm okay with it.

At least I think I am.

* * *

><p><strong>sorry it's not longer, it was just the best place to cut it off at. So I'm going to be on vacation all week so I might not be able to have the entire next few chapters written. I feel super bad about that though so if you send in a review I will respond by mid-week with a teaser of the next chapter! sound okay?<strong>

**i'd love to hear what you think of this so far. **

**xoxo**

**meg**


	6. chapter six

**greetings from the worst person to ever exist hello. so i have no excuse for why this took me so long. I rewrote it at least six times and finally ended up with something i like and i wrote it all in one sitting so i'm sorry if it's terrible. **

**thank you for reviewing. thank you for sticking with this. .**

* * *

><p><strong>chapter six<strong>

Jake meets me on campus right after one of his classes end on Wednesday and it's a relief to see him. His smile is warm and brown eyes calm when he sees me. I'm tired and I just got out of the shower, so my hair is wet and it's soaking through the back of my shirt but none of that really matters now because he pulls me into a tight hug. It feels like it's been so long since he's held me and it makes me want to place my lips on his.

"Ugh, your hair, Bel," he says with a little bit of disgust and a lot of amusement.

"I'm thinking about chopping it off," I tell him as we start walking through campus, towards downtown Forks. Jake makes a face.

"Oh, please don't. I love your hair the way it is. Just more dry," he jokes but something about his comment doesn't sit right. I don't say anything; I just shrug and move my eyes ahead, focusing instead on the crowds of trees and the cloudy skies. I stay quiet the whole way into town but he doesn't seem to notice, he just keep talking—mostly about this car he's helping his friend Sam fix up. My mood starts to head south as we get to the bookstore and thankfully he quiets down when we get inside, distracted by the second hand car manuals. The bookstore is my favorite place around campus. It's small and a little too dim and smells like dust and mothballs but it's cozy and they have a coffeemaker back by the memoirs that's always hot. I get a small cup, letting the steam rise as I start sifting through the clearance section where everything is two dollars or less.

It takes two cups of coffee, three novels and an old Paul Simon record to get me back to smiling at Jake when I find him outside the store, playing on his phone. He shoves it in his pocket when I reach him. I bite my lip.

"Want to get some ice cream?" he asks, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the shop down the street. We head that way and he asks me about the books I got but his mind seems elsewhere. When we're sitting down on a bench outside, chocolate chip cones in our hands, I feel the anxiousness return to my chest. I suck in a breath.

"I hate my major," I blurt and he looks at me almost as if he wants to roll his eyes.

"You've only been in class for a few days, Bel."

"I know and I'm already sick of it. So do I really want to be stuck doing something I hate for the rest of my life?"

Jacob laughs.

"You're not supposed to like your job, Bella. It's work. It's supposed to be work. Besides, what else would you do?" he laughs again and I feel myself sinking further into myself.

"I guess you're right," I murmur, staring at my dripping ice cream.

I'm not hungry anymore.

* * *

><p>Edward Cullen is sitting at a table in my section of the library on Thursday afternoon. He's got his laptop out in front of him, massive headphones over his ears and piles of papers strewn out in front of him. On hand is tapping a rhythm on the table while the other is buried in his hair. He looks content and focused, his eyes trained on his work in front of him.<p>

I take the long way to the Current Issues shelf so he doesn't see me but my cheeks are read anyways and my breathing is too uneven.

I change out the magazines as quickly as possible, glancing at him through the gaps in the shelf every ten seconds. I'm feeling self-conscious, my hair dried into this long, tangled mess and I wish more than anything to cut it off into a chic, sleek bob. Jacob's comment from earlier comes back to me and I bite my lip. I'd never be able to pull it off. Maybe just a few inches would make a difference…

"Are you stalking me?"

I jump at the voice, my hand on my heart as I find a pair of grass green eyes peering at me through the gap in the shelves.

"What?" I gasp, still trying to catch my breath.

"Are you stalking me?" Edward laughs and I can picture the corners of the mouth making dimples on his cheeks.

"I work here," I sputter and he disappears from the gap only to reappear a moment later, fully in front of me. He's taller than I remember and it feels like he's towering over me, the length of his body and the length of his limbs have the potential to be gangly but somehow it makes him graceful. He raises an eyebrow and I'm forced to admit to myself that my little crush on him is still bouncing around in my chest.

I try to make that not seem glaringly obvious so I go for snarky instead of flustered to fill in the silence.

"So did you just come over here to accuse me of following you or…?" I trail off; placing the magazine I'm holding in its correct place on the shelf.

"Kind of, but I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go grab some dinner at the campus center when you're done here."

I'm floored by what he's said and he senses my hesitation. I'm trying to forget about this stupid crush and going to dinner with him would be the _worst_ possible idea. It's practically a date. Oh my god, I have to say no.

But looking at him, his expectant expression, I realize that I really don't want to turn him down. I feel desperation constricting in my chest.

Okay, maybe I'll get to know him. Maybe he'll prove to be vain or boring or chews with his mouth open or listens to country music.

_That would certainly speed up the whole getting over him process_.

"Bella?" he says, his tone amused.

Oh god, I've just been staring at him and not talking for far too long.

"What, yes okay sure I'm almost done just let me…" and I nearly sprint back to the periodicals room, grabbing my stuff and shouting a quick _goodbye_ to Esme

"Where's the fire?" she calls after me but I'm already out the door and Edward is there smiling at me.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you <em>don't like grilled cheese<em>?" I say, staring at him incredulously. Edward rolls his eyes. "It's just bread, cheese and butter! Those are literally the best possible ingredients!"

He scoffs.

"See? You don't even have a reason. Because it's impossible to not like grilled cheese. Here, eat some of this." I tear off a piece of my sandwich and dunk it in my tomato soup before holding it out to him. He pops it in his mouth and makes a face. I exhale loudly.

Edward and I have not stopped arguing since we left the library. First, he made fun of me for wearing an old bowling shirt that my dad had given me and we went back and forth about that for the entire walk to the campus center. Once we met back at our table with our food he teased me about my grilled cheese.

In all honesty, Edward is ridiculous.

"So, Bella. Tell me, what is your major?" he says after painfully swallowing the grilled cheese.

"What a cliché question," I say.

"Well, a major can tell you a lot about the person. Like their hobbies and passions and all," he explains taking a bite of his hamburger.

"I'm…an accounting major," I say, feeling kind of embarrassed. He looks surprised.

"That's not what I was expecting," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. The bronze locks take their time falling back into place.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just didn't peg you as a numbers person."

"I mean, I'm really not," I mutter. "It's not like _Managerial Accounting_ is my passion." I think back to that class the other day, nearly falling asleep just looking at the syllabus.

"Then why are you studying it?" he asks and his brow puckers, like he's trying to solve a difficult math equation.

"Accounting is a stable career. I'll be able to get a job when I'm done here," I say with a shrug and eat a spoonful of soup. Edward just stares at me.

"Well do you _like_ it at least?" I laugh at his question.

"I don't think anyone _likes_ accounting."

"This is the saddest conversation I've ever had," he says, shaking his head. It's my turn to roll my eyes.

"It's a job, Edward, I don't have to love it," I say, feeling like I need to defend myself, even though I'm throwing Jacob's words at him. Whenever I told anyone else I was an accounting major, they commended me for making such a _mature decision_. A safe decision. My future would be okay.

But sitting here with Edward's disbelief, I feel unsettled.

"You're going to have to do it every day, Bella," he says. "Why wouldn't you do something you loved? I love to make music so I'm going to make music."

"Isn't that scary though? That's such an uncertain future," I say. He smiles, his eyes excited.

"That's the best part. I don't know, I guess I'd rather give it a shot than hide behind a sure thing that will make me miserable." A silence overtakes us as I think over Edward's words. I feel like I need to be honest with him.

"I…I always wanted to work with books," I say eventually, doubt coloring my voice. "Like publishing or writing or anything really. But I don't know, as I grew up I kind of saw how dumb that was."

"I don't think that's dumb at all," he says softly, his eyes so unbelievably green. Not blue green or hazel but _green._ Like fresh cut grass or the mossy stones in the surrounding forests or the emerald earrings my mom used to wear on special occasions. My heart beats wildly and I'm sure he can hear it from across the table.

"You know, it's not too late to drop a class and add a new one…" he says suggestively, standing up with his plate in hand. I follow him to the dishwasher. "I'm taking this class as one of my general education requirements—it's an intro to creative writing thing. There aren't a lot of people in the class; I bet you could still get in."

"Oh, I couldn't—" I say but he cuts me off as we are heading out the door.

"Sure you could. Bye, Bella," he says and turns around, heading in the direction of his house.

"Bye, Edward," I call after him, trying to sound annoyed. He just waves his hand and keeps walking.

* * *

><p>Later that night, I'm at my computer, looking over my schedule. It's full of finance courses that I'm dreading spending a semester in. I stare at the screen for a long time, Rosalie floating around the room hanging up photographs and posters, telling me about her classes. I'm mostly ignoring her. I look up that class Edward had mentioned and skim the information about the course. The required reading list looked like heaven. I'd read some of them but most were titles I'd been meaning to get around to for years. I look over the information again, and then again.<p>

"Will you quit sighing?" Rose shouts. "Are you even listening?"

I exhale again and she hits me with a pillow.

* * *

><p>On Friday when I walk into class, Edward is sitting at the back of the room, smirking at me. When I reach him, he hands me a copy of <em>The Sun Also Rises<em>. Another copy sits at the edge of his desk.

"You're ridiculous," I say, taking the seat next to him. He grins crookedly at me; it reaches his eyes and his whole face shines like the sun and moon and stars.

"I knew you'd change your mind," he says. I ignore him in an obvious way, studying my nails and trying not to smile. I can practically hear him roll his eyes. "Wanna go over the syllabus?"

And so we take the next few moments, looking over the novels we'd be reading and corresponding pieces we'd be writing over the course of the semester, my excitement growing over each and every one of them. I'm poring over the assignment descriptions when I feel Edward watching me. When I look up at him, his eyes are soft, his smile still big.

"You look so happy right now," he says, and this time he does touch my hand, briefly but it's warm and makes my stomach flip.


	7. chapter seven

**thank you thank you thank you for your reviews-they all make me smile (and a lot of them make me laugh because you're all hilarious). **

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><p><strong>chapter seven<strong>

Rosalie wakes me up on Saturday morning, humming happily which means she's probably seen or spoken to Emmett in the last twenty four hours. When I lift my head up, I find her grinning at me.

"You missed breakfast, I stole you a bagel—extra cream cheese," she says, grabbing a bundle of napkins from her purse and handing them to me. I unwrap them to find my breakfast still warm. I smile gratefully at her.

"Thank you," I say, my voice raspy from sleep.

"Yeah, no problem. How late were you up last night?"

"Um, four or so maybe? That book was so good, I couldn't put it down," I say, tilting my head in the direction of the discarded novel on the floor.

"You amaze me," Rose laughs. She opens her wardrobe and starts sifting through clothes. I glance at my phone, ignoring the texts from Jake and instead looking at the clock—a little after two.

"I wasted my whole day," I groan.

"It's okay, at least you won't be tired for tonight," Rose muses, holding a black mini skirt up to her waist.

"Tonight?"

"Edward's show? By the way, Em invited us over to his house to pregame before heading over. He confirmed that they don't usually card at Blackstone's but I don't want to go broke for nasty beer."

I cover my face with my pillow.

"It'll be fun. Something new."

"What'll be fun?" Alice asks as she breezes in through the bathroom door, slamming it closed behind her.

"The show tonight," Rose says, holding the skirt out to Alice. Alice shrugs and grabs it from her.

"Oh god. That's all Jess has been talking about. She just left for Port Angeles to go find a new outfit at their mall."

"Seriously?" Rose laughs.

"Yeah, she's convinced she's gonna land Edward tonight and a barely there dress is her way to do it."

"You should've stopped her," Rose says, looking appalled.

"Eh, it's her life. She can do what she wants," Alice says but she glances at me while she says it.

"I need to take a shower," I announce to no one in particular. They stare at me.

"Okay," Rose says slowly.

"Okay," I say, nodding my head. My brain already moving a million miles an hour to figure out _how to stop Jessica Stanley_.

* * *

><p>By time we're ready to leave Emmett's house, I'm a little buzzed. Not drunk like Rose and Alice are, giggling wildly in front of me, but loosened up as I walk next Emmett out the front door and towards town.<p>

"You look nice," Emmett says kindly as he watches me fidget with the hem of my skirt.

"Thank you," I say, my hand stilling. Rosalie turns around.

"I did that," Rose says like a proud mother. She moves away from Alice and back to me, appraising my outfit for what seems like the millionth time tonight. It's nothing spectacular, to be honest, just a too big white tshirt tucked into a short, flowy plaid skirt. What Rose says makes the outfit is the dark plum lipstick she applied and the way she put my hair half up in a bun.

"Very 90s chic," she says, her eyes staying on Emmett's. He laughs at her and she sticks out her tongue and I move ahead to walk with Alice. She loops her arm with mine and we walk on, ready for the night.

Blackstone's is pretty packed with students when we get there; I'm thinking they reached a lot of people with their flyers. Alice and I lean against a wall next to the bar while Rose and Emmett move farther in the crowd. The place is small and dimly lit and I can see Jasper on stage setting stuff up. My heart thuds, anticipating Edward's arrival.

But he doesn't come, instead, Jasper shifts an amp about three inches to the left and disappears off the stage.

"Who was that?" Alice says, her hand clutching my arm tightly.

"Jasper," I say. She nods and doesn't say anything more but her hand stays where it is.

Jessica Stanley arrives ten minutes later and proves that Blackstone's doesn't card for drinks, making her way over to us with a beer in hand.

"Oh _my_ _god_," Alice whispers, her eyebrows raised.

"Hi guys!" Jessica squeals when she reaches us and I take the time to fully take in her appearance. Her hair is somehow bigger than ever—less frizzy than it normally is but she's definitely added curls to it. She's wearing a short red dress that hugs her curves like a second skin and I'm convinced if she bends over her cleavage _and _her ass will completely make themselves known to everyone here. For the first time since I met her, I have to look up to make eye contact with her—her heels making her tower over me.

"Oh man, I'm _so _excited. I'm gonna try and get closer to the stage, oh, there's Rose! See ya!" And she's gone. I watch her hair bobbing through the crowd.

"What just happened?" I ask and Alice lets out a loud laugh.

"Jessica wants her man," she says, shrugging.

Before slow burn of jealousy can make its way into my chest, the lights go off and people start cheering. Jasper is the first one on stage, carrying a bass and glancing over his shoulder. Ben Cheney follows and I'm surprised to see him go to the drum kit at the back of the stage. He's so gangly and I've never seen him anywhere without his glasses and a polo shirt. But now, while he still has his signature mop of dark, curly hair, he's got on a faded White Stripes t-shirt and a vaguely nervous expression.

I'm expecting Alice to cheer for Ben since they're friends and all but she doesn't—she remains frozen at my side, her eyes glued to the stage.

I'm about to ask her what is wrong but Edward Cullen steps into the blue and green lights illuminating the stage and my throat goes dry. He's got a small smile on his face, one hand running through his hair while the other holds a sleek, white guitar that's covered in stickers. He steps up to the microphone situated a little left of center while Jasper goes to the one on the right. I watch Edward clear his throat.

"Hi, we're Avenir, thanks for coming out tonight," Edward says softly and people cheer and clap and yell his name and through all of this he seems mildly embarrassed. He looks at Jasper, who nods at him, his fingers setting themselves on his instrument, and then looks back at Ben.

Edward's voice rises over the crowd before any instruments make any noise and I feel my heart slam into my rib cage. The music isn't polished, it's not perfect and he and Jasper don't have voices like Adam Levine or whatever—their voices are rougher and they don't dress their words up, no, they let their voices strain and scratch and it feels so honest.

One song fades into the next and the crowd is into it—you can tell by the way they wave their hands around and how their hips move to drum beats. I can't move—I'm frozen where I am and I feel like I could cry because I feel the chords and words seep inside me until I can feel it all in my bones.

"We need to go closer," Alice says as there's a lull in the music and Jasper takes a drink from a beer sitting on the edge of the stage. I let her pull me through the crowd until we reach Rose and Emmett. I crane my neck in search of Jessica but I don't see her.

"If anyone is interested, you can buy our CD at the bar after the show. Jasper made all the album art and it only looks slightly terrible," Edward says and people laugh while Jasper tells him to fuck off.

"Anyways," Edward says, grabbing an acoustic guitar from behind his amp, checking to make sure it's in tune before he looks back out into the crowd. I'm convinced his eyes find mine and I'm close enough to him that I can see the sweat beading on his forehead and the fraying hem of his tshirt. He smiles, and starts to sing about spending time above water and his eyes never leave mine while his fingers slide around the neck of the guitar with so little effort it seems second nature to him.

I lick my lips and his voice cracks ever so slightly and my lungs feel like they're going to collapse. Suddenly, I feel an elbow in my back and I turn around to see Jessica trying to make her way past me, which she does successfully and makes her way as close to the front as she can. She does that annoying four fingered wave that I thought only cartoon characters did and Edward smiles at her, I feel like collapsing.

He's too cool, far too cool to ever look twice at me when he could have any girl in this room.

I feel the air leave my lungs and I struggle to get it back, my skin feeling too warm and too tight. I back out of the crowd, tears stinging my eyes for absolutely no reason at all and I'm ready to head outside and catch my breath but I buy a CD first.

I walk home, the air getting colder as fall is moving in, clutching the CD tightly to my chest.

_**setlist: nick kwas christmas party by sorority noise**_

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><p><strong>if you want to know what Avenir sounds like, listen to the song on the setlist above.<br>**

**thank you thank you thank you xx**

**meg**


	8. chapter eight

**chapter eight**

I don't see Edward again until class on Monday and as soon as I see him, all I can think about are the lyrics I memorized Sunday while I sat on the lawn outside of Brighton, eyes closed to the sunlight warming my face. I avoided everyone—I didn't see Alice or Rose except for early in the morning and when I finally gave in and went to bed. Jacob texted me once or twice but I didn't answer him. I focused on Edward's voice and the strum of the guitar and the beat beat beat of the drums.

Seeing him now, all I can think is, _night after night, you haunt me_. Track three. His voice is soft on this song, it makes me ache.

He looks up at me when I drop my backpack behind the desk next to him and he keeps his eyes on me while I take a seat.

"Hey," I say as I pull out my books.

"Hey," he replies. "I looked for you after the show but I couldn't find you."

My heart does this weird thing where it sinks with guilt but flutters at the thought of him looking for me.

"Oh, I wasn't feeling well," I lie and he stares at me skeptically but doesn't push it and for that I am grateful. Through the whole discussion on Hemingway and his simplistic style, I can't contribute anything. I loved the book and I spent a lot of my weekend reading it. I have a lot to say but I can't bring myself to say any of it.

Instead I watch Edward out of the corner of my eye while his songs turn over in my mind over and over and over.

He runs a hand through his hair.

_It's early and bright out,_

He interjects, "I think that his style is interesting in how it portrays dialogue…"

_It's hard for me to let you in,_

His fingers tap tap tap on his knee.

_I can't find my way around this._

"Bella?"

I blink at the sound of my name.

"What did you think about that chapter?" My professor asks and my face flames because I have no idea what chapter she's talking about.

I stammer and flush and I can't look at Edward for the rest of class.

"Everything okay?" he asks as I'm packing my books up. I don't look up from his scuffed shoes until he clears his throat.

"Oh, yeah, everything is fine. I'm fine. It's all good," I blurt out and Edward raises his eyebrows.

"Alright. I was wondering if you wanted to grab some lunch and start working on the next few chapters?"

"Um, sure," I say uncertainly. Not because I don't want to—the thought of spending time with Edward sounds heavenly—it's just…why?

Why is he talking to me?

Wanting to study with me?

What does he have to gain from this?

Edward smiles and I think of track five.

_Help me down._

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><p>We end up at his house, off campus and really close to the diner on Main Street. We get sandwiches to go and Edward makes fun of my extra-large coffee.<p>

"That cup is bigger than you are," he teases, eyes bright. I feel the sun warm my neck.

"I can't wait for the leaves to change," I say, ignoring his comment. He grins.

"I'm excited to be able to wear jeans and not feel like I'm going to sweat to death," he adds.

"Why don't you just wear shorts?"

"I'd lose some of my punk street cred," he replies as we near his house. I _think_ he's only joking.

Edward's house has a wide front porch with a beat up couch sitting on it behind a giant Seahawks flag waving in the breeze. Inside smells vaguely like cigarettes and pot, but it's cleaner than I expected. The kitchen floor is a little sticky and there are beer bottles everywhere but I've seen worse.

"We, um, can study here," he says, gesturing to the cluttered kitchen table. "Or we can go up to my room."

We both blush furiously as I tell him that the kitchen is fine. I watch him stack papers into neat piles and drop plates in the sink, clearing the table as quickly as possible. He wipes it down with a wet rag and smiles at me when he's done.

Edward is always smiling.

"So, chapter seven right?" he asks, taking a seat and pulling out a notebook.

"I think so," I tell him, though I have no idea. "I kind of already finished it. I have no idea where we were supposed to stop."

"You finished it?" he gapes.

"Yes," I say quietly, mildly embarrassed. I brace myself for the teasing. Jake always called me a nerd, which is whatever, it never really bothered me that much because Jake never really valued school work or literature or really anything but me and cars. But if Edward thinks less of me because of it, it would hurt because that would mean that he isn't what I think he is.

"Damn, I wish I could do that. I'm such a slow reader. The book is great but I have to keep taking breaks or I start to zone out. I don't know, I just can't focus on one single thing for that long," he says, flipping through the pages, shaking his head. "Multitasking is great—I can watch a movie and write a song no problem. The more I gotta do the better."

"I can read it, you know, out loud if you want. I don't mind. If you wanted to start working on the questions and stuff," I say uncertainly as my phone buzzes. I have a feeling it's Jake. I've been dodging him for like, three days and he's probably getting really annoyed.

It keeps buzzing and buzzing though so I finally have to look at it.

The screen tells me it's _Mom, _a picture of Renee underneath the name, crossing her eyes and holding her fingers up in a peace sign. We were at the beach; it was the beginning of summer. It was the first I'd seen her in three months.

"It's my mom," I say to Edward and he nods while I step out of the kitchen, phone already pressed to my ear.

"Bella!" she says, ever happy and excited. I fight the urge to sigh as I brace myself. Another article sold? Not likely. A string of misfortunes hit her all at once? Almost certain.

"Hi, Mom," I say, my voice quiet.

"How's school going? Do you like your classes?"

"It's fine, they're fine. I dropped Managerial and…I picked up an intro to creative writing course."

"Oh, Bella, that's wonderful," she breathes, elated. "Tell me about it. Are you reading anything good? Or are you just jumping into the writing?"

She senses my hesitation through my silence as I glance at Edward in the kitchen. He's hunched over his notebook, biting his lip.

"Am I interrupting something? Are you busy?" she asks, her words coming too quickly, as always.

"I'm just studying with a friend," I say quietly. Edward shifts in his seat but doesn't look up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, hon," she tells me. "I'm just calling because I was late on a couple of payments so my phone is going to be shut off for a while. So if you need to get in touch with me, just shoot me an email."

"Okay, Mom," I say and the irritation burns in me, mixing the worry over her current ability to afford the basics and the ever-present anxiety that I'll end up the same way.

"Love you, hon," she says brightly and hangs up before I can even say it back. I shove my phone in my pocket and scrub my hands over my face, pressing my palms to my eyes. Every time she calls me it throws me into this panic—Charlie is convinced that I need to be medicated but honestly I think I just need my mom to become a stable adult so I can stop freaking out about whether she's going to end up on the streets. She used to work at my elementary school as one of the ladies in the office and she lived in a small, red house by the river and I saw her every day after school. She quit when I was nine because she claimed the strict schedule cut into her writing time.

That was when she met her first post-marriage boyfriend and moved out of town to her first post-marriage apartment.

I only saw her every other weekend and I ate grilled cheese for most of the meals she made for me. At my dad's house we always ate eggs and toast for breakfast. At mom's we ate cold cereal from a bag.

Edward is suddenly next to me, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch my shoulder and I flinch without meaning to.

"I'm sorry," we both say at the same time.

"You look upset, is everything okay?" he asks, his brow creased. I focus on the scratch on the lens of his glasses.

I wonder how well he can even see me, how reliable those glasses are. Why won't he just get new ones? Why keep the broken pair?

My stomach sinks looking at him, his hand still reaching out for me, just a little bit. And though I'm craving for the warm electricity of his touch, my anxiety wins out and I redirect us to the kitchen, where I read to him about running with the bulls in short, clear sentences. He spends the next hour or so scribbling notes on the paper in front of him and we make a lot of progress. Edward walks me back to my dorm afterwards, claiming it's on the way to his next class. He lingers at the door and I'm overwhelmed by the energy in the air between us—intense and high but soft and real at the same time.

"Today was nice," he says quietly and all I can do is nod. He takes a step towards me and I squeak out a goodbye before going inside, my heart slamming against my ribcage because his eyes make me weak in the knees and I can't help thinking about the sound of his guitar strumming and imagining his long fingers making those chords.

I need to step back. I need to breathe.

I text Jacob back for the first time in days.

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><p>thank you for reading i'd love to know what you think xoxo<p> 


	9. chapter nine

**thank you for your reviews and readership xx**

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><p><strong>chapter nine<strong>

"Wow, never thought I'd see _you _again," Jacob says through his open window when he pulls up in front of my dorm. He's only teasing but I frown anyways.

I haven't seen him in four weeks but we've been texting as much as we had been when we were dating. On the other hand, Edward has become a fixture of my life at Forks. He eats dinner with me and Alice and Rose and I read to him while he takes vigorous notes. When we're at his house, Emmett comes in and out of the kitchen, making sandwiches and pretending to hit on me and when we're at my dorm, I spend my time hoping that Jessica doesn't decide to stop by.

We're hardly ever alone, which I'm grateful for, honestly. Because sometimes his hand brushes against mine or I'll find him looking at me while I'm reading Fitzgerald and it makes my heart thunder in my chest and my stomach drop.

I had been looking forward to seeing Jake, but seeing him here now, I just wish Edward was instead.

"Get in," he says, grinning and swinging the door open for me. His car smells vaguely like cigarettes, as usual, because it's used and from the early '90s and Jake doesn't do anything about it because he says it's more authentic. He fixed this old Volkswagen up himself—I remember the countless days I spent in high school, sitting on the old, torn up couch in his garage while I worked on homework and he worked on the engine.

I'm struck by how much I miss those times but the feeling fades when I see a tube of pink lipgloss lying on the floor next to my feet.

I glance at him but he just keeps smiling, either oblivious or he just doesn't care.

Jacob and I are walking on Main Street when I see Edward. His hair is wet and eyes are tired, wearing one of the many flannel shirts he owns. He's sitting on a bench in front of the coffee shop, sketching or writing, eyes trained on something in the distance while his head bobs to the music coming through his earbuds. I am unsure of whether or not I should go say hi. I look up at Jacob, his dark eyes are smiling as he grabs my hand. I'm so surprised by the gesture that I stare at him for a moment, my mouth hanging open just slightly. He hasn't held my hand since we dated—the roughness of his palm is so familiar to me and it makes me think of his garage and the smell of oil and his laughter.

"Do you know him, Bella?" Jacob asks, pointing ahead of us with his free hand. I look to find Edward staring at us, his hand up like he was waving only a moment ago.

"Uh, yeah," I mutter as we approach him, suddenly apprehensive because Edward's mouth is pressed into a tight line; Jacob's hand squeezes mine harder.

"Hey, Edward," I say. He won't meet my eyes.

"Hello," he says quietly, almost cautiously and I know something is off. I've seen a lot of Edward the last few weeks and I know that he is never quiet. He is sarcastic and never shuts up and always skips the hellos when he greets me and launches right into whatever he needs to tell me. I don't think he's ever said _hello_ to me. The word makes me itchy.

I've never mentioned Edward to Jacob and I can tell by Jacobs tightening grip and calculating stare that this was a bad move on my part. I can see the wheels turning in Jacob's mind, trying to place how Edward fits into my life and why he's remained a secret.

"Edward, this is Jacob. Jake, Edward," I say, trying to break the tense silence.

Both men stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

"Nice to meet you," Edward replies flatly, closing his notebook and he moves his eyes to mine and I'm bowled over by the intensity in his expression.

"Well, we have a lot we want to do today," Jake begins, his voice tight. "We should go."

"Oh, of course," Edward says, not bothering to move his gaze from me. "Have fun."

"We will," Jake smiles and I'm struck by the cockiness in his voice. Once Edward is out of earshot, I turn on him.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I hiss. Jake crosses his arms over his chest.

"I could ask you the same thing." The cocky, accusing tone of his voice makes my eyes burn.

"That was me saying hello to one of my friends and _you_ being so incredibly _rude_." He frowns. I start walking towards the bookstore, Jacob following close behind.

"Why haven't you mentioned him to me? Is there something going on? He looked awfully happy to see you."

I think about the lipgloss in his car. The lipgloss that isn't mine.

"You're joking right?"

"No. Will you stop walking away from me?" He says loudly and grabs my wrist too roughly yanking me backwards; I let out a yelp and stumble, falling flat on my ass.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?" He crouches over me as I sit on the sidewalk, clutching my wrist.

"What is wrong with you?" I cry, very much wanting him to go home. At this moment, I do not feel comfort from Jacob Black, and it hurts more than anything else ever could.

"I'm sorry," he says and rubs his face hard with his hands.

"There's nothing going on with me and Edward," I say, my voice shaky. I am trying hard not to cry. "Not that it even fucking matters because you are _not_ my boyfriend."

I take in his face, marred with shame and regret and I try my best to feel bad for him. But I can't—at least not as much as he wants me to.

We grew up together, but I'm starting to see that we grew very differently.

"Let's just go to the bookstore," I sigh as I get up, not bothering to hold my hand out for him to take.

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><p>"Tonight I am finally going to sleep with Emmett," Rosalie announces when I walk into our room two hours later. Alice is sitting on our futon, painting her toenails plum purple.<p>

"Um, congrats?" I say, setting down my purchases from today. I bought too many books and too many records but I needed to turn my day around. Jake spent the rest of our time together being overly friendly and happy but it just made me feel worse.

"Right?" Alice agrees, not glancing up. Rose sighs, disappointed with our reactions.

"It's happening. We are going to Delta Sig's Oktoberfest and I am going to have _sex_ with him."

"Is she already drunk?" I ask Alice, who snorts but doesn't deny it.

"I am not drunk. It is October first. It's beer time. It's sex time," she cries, her hands in the air. If only Rose was this passionate about something useful, like saving the environment or politics.

"Well, have fun," I say, climbing up on my bed and collapsing, snuggling into my pillow.

"That's funny, you're coming," she says and I groan.

"If you guys don't come, I'm gonna have to spend the whole time trying to shrug off Jess and that's gonna put a damper on my sex plans."

"Stop saying sex," Alice mutters.

"Are _you_ going?" I ask Alice and she lets out an affirmative hum.

"Fine," I sigh, ignoring the fact that I'm hoping to see Edward there.

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><p>Delta Sig's version of Oktoberfest is a backyard shit show of drunken freshmen girls and frat guys hitting on them. They have many varieties of cheap, terrible beer in tubs scattered throughout and Emmett McCarty is wearing the German flag like a cape.<p>

"The twinkle lights are a nice touch," Alice whispers and I have to agree, though they don't do much to add to the aesthetic of the frat's backyard. They've got them strung between trees and it really lets you see the drunken debauchery a lot more clearly. I spot Edward almost immediately, of course.

He's leaning up against the house, beer in hand and a stormy expression on his face.

"What's up his ass?" Alice asks, a little too loudly. Edward glances in our direction and I take that as my opportunity to approach him.

"Hey," I say, smiling because I can't help it. It's almost like the afternoon with Jake is a distant dream.

"Hi," Edward replies.

"Is Bass here?" Alice asks, as she does every time we see Edward. She's been obsessing over Jasper for the last few weeks, unable to refer to him as anything other than Bass. He lives further off campus and isn't in Delta Sig with Emmett so he's hardly ever around. Edward's lips twitch like he wants to smile but can't.

"You're in luck. He's inside trying to convince someone to take him to get tacos."

Alice doesn't even say anything; she takes the steps two at a time. Edward takes a swig from the bottle in his hand.

"Ugh, whiskey?" I say, scrunching my nose up.

"Yep," he says, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

He hands me the bottle. I take a drink and I let it burn all the way down and I feel the warmth settle in my chest.

"I've been listening to your CD," I say and he turns to me, swaying slightly but his eyes are completely focused and the intensity of his gaze makes my stomach flip. I'm reminded of the first day I saw him at the theatre.

"Do you like it?"

"Track six is my favorite. I listen to it a lot."

_And you will hurt me and I deserve it._

"Fuck," he says, tossing the bottle into the grass and it almost hits a couple making out. People are milling all around us but neither of us moves.

"What?"

"I need to sit down," he says and we both sink to the ground and neither of us says anything else about his music.

"Look, I'm sorry if you're mad at me about today…I don't know what Jacob's problem was."

"I saw you fall. Earlier," he says in response.

I'm embarrassed, even in my drunkenness.

"Your boyfriend shouldn't treat you like that," he say and my eyes burn.

"He's not my boyfriend," I tell him and he exhales, like he's been holding his breath for a really long time.

"Well, either way."

"Yeah."

And we fall into silence, neither of us quite knowing what else to say and more of track six spins in my head.

_Tell me everything is how it should be. _

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><p><strong>things are going to start picking up<strong>


	10. chapter ten

**wow i am so so sorry that this took so long-classes have started (as has an internship) so i've been super busy. plus this website wouldn't let me log in for a few days so that delayed things. thanks for sticking with this. **

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><p><strong>chapter ten<strong>

"New haircut, Esme?" I ask as I make my way into the periodical's room. Esme grins and spins around in her chair.

"Oh, yes," she says, her fingers reaching to touch the curled ends.

"It looks great," I tell her, and it does. Her caramel locks are a few inches shorter and wavier than usual. I think she got some extra highlights, too. I look on with jealousy as my hair weighs heavily in a bun on top of my head.

"Having a good week so far, Bella?" Esme asks as I start sorting through magazines.

"Yeah," I sigh. "It's been okay. Mid-terms were terrible though." Thankfully they're over now. Edward and I spent a lot of time trying to catch up on reading and writing response papers and he's been trying to convince me to sign up for the writing class next semester. My schedule is full already though so I would have to drop another accounting class to make room.

I've been debating it in my head for weeks.

We're getting settled back into our work when my phone rings loudly on the desk next to my elbow. Esme looks up.

"Oh, I'm sorry I forgot to put it on silent. It's just my mom," I say, staring at her picture on the screen and feeling a vague crashing of nerves in my chest.

"Don't apologize, go ahead and take the call," Esme says kindly, but I don't want to hit the green button. I'm guessing her phone _had_ been shut off after all because I haven't heard from her in weeks.

"It's okay," I say quietly. "I'll call her back later."

Which I do.

As much as I don't want to, she's my mom and I don't want to feel such animosity towards her. I'm trying, I promise.

So when she answers later that afternoon, my hello is more cheerful than I feel.

"Sorry, mom," I say after she finishes her whole _I'm so glad you called _speech. "I was working."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry about that! You know me, I forget stuff like that."

"Yeah," I sigh. I'm walking back to my dorm, fidgeting with the hem of my sweater. Late October has brought a cold wind with it. I make a note to myself to grab my heavier coat next time I go home. My mom is saying something new but I miss the first part of it.

"…phone was turned off so I'm really sorry if you tried to call," she says and I ignore the pang of guilt that hits me when I realize I never did try.

It's not that I don't love my mom, I know I'm a shitty daughter, she just gives me so much anxiety. I can never find any stable ground with her.

"I'm thinking about going to Florida, maybe to move. I don't know. I'd like to see some palm trees. You can come with Phil and me if you want." When she starts listing off things we can do in Florida, my heart sinks. I don't want to get my hopes up; it's never worked out before.

I think back to my tenth birthday, how we were supposed to spend the day at Wild Waves before it closed for the season. After waiting for about three hours for her to show up, she called my dad and told him that her car got towed because she didn't renew the parking pass she had for her apartment. They fought for what seemed like a really long time and my dad spent the day trying to make it up to me by ordering a pizza and letting me watch a PG13 movie before he had to drop me off at the babysitter's while he went to work.

So let's just say I'm not shopping for a bikini and a new beach towel.

"Wait—how are you going to get to Florida?" I ask as I reach my dorm. I struggle to get my ID out of my pocket to swipe in and I'm already stressed. She just got her phone turned back on; she isn't exactly going to be able to afford to get herself, let alone me, three thousand miles away.

I walk upstairs slowly, listening to her grand plans for coming into money, how she's hopeful that Phil will get the new coaching position at the high school nearby and that she'll be signed onto a Seattle based style magazine full time. I _mhmm _and _yeah_ at all the right moments and when I get to my room, I use it as an opportunity to escape, a headache growing behind my eyes.

"Alice and Rose are here, gotta go, Mom," I say when I see my friends stretched out on Rose's bed, messing around on their phones.

"Okay, tell them I say hello. Miss you baby," she says.

"Miss you, too," I say quietly. "Bye."

I hang up and they look up at me expectantly.

"My mom says hi." They both smile cautiously.

"How's it going with her?" Rose asks, patting the spot next to her. I sigh, slipping out of my boots and collapsing next to her.

"Okay, I guess. I don't know. She got her phone turned back on. She wants to go to Florida."

"That's ambitious," Alice breathes, a smirk dancing on her face. They both know my issues with her, and while sympathetic, they take what I say with a grain of salt. They don't see her as completely at fault in every situation. It only makes me _slightly_ bitter.

"She wants me to come with her," I say, rubbing my eyes hard. Rose and Alice exchange a look.

"It's movie time, I think," Rose says and she moves to the DVD player. We don't mention Florida or my mom or anything other than how good Ryan Gosling looks without a shirt on for the rest of the night.

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><p>Around two am, I'm woken up by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I glance around the room, my neck stiff, and I see Rose asleep on the futon under my bed and Alice is nowhere to be found. We must have fallen asleep somewhere around the fourth movie. My phone keeps buzzing and I get up, going out into the hallway to answer it, kicking an empty pizza box on the way.<p>

"Hello?" I whisper, my eyes trying to adjust to the fluorescents in the hallway.

"Emergency," Edward's voice says and I stand up a little straighter, my heartbeat quickening.

"Are you okay?!" I nearly shout and I hear him suck in a breath.

"I'm in desperate need of a donut." It takes me a beat to register that he's not bleeding in the street somewhere.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious," he says grimly.

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because, Bella, I need you to come with me. You sound like you could use a donut."

"Because you just woke me up," I mutter.

"More reason to get one."

"Where do you want me to meet you?" I sigh. I can practically hear Edward grinning.

"I'm right outside."

"You're insane," I say. "But I'll be there in a minute."

I throw my hair into a ponytail and I grab a pair of boots from my room, closing the door quietly. When I get outside, Edward is drumming his fingers on his thighs, as always, and really awake for how late it is.

"McCallister's has been open for an hour, we need to go before all the good donuts are gone," he says, already turning towards Main Street. McCallister's Bakery is known for opening at one am and closing by 10 am. It's a Forks tradition to go at least once. It's not that exciting but it's been a thing for like sixty years or something. Two donuts and a carton of milk for a dollar.

"Wait for me," I grumble, picking up my pace.

"What was that?" Edward calls over his shoulder and I flip him off. He turns around and grins his biggest grin at me.

"You're buying me my donut," I tell him once I reach him. He throws an arm around me.

"I was planning on it anyway," he says and I do my best to not lean into him.

I spend the walk in Edward's casual embrace, feeling the heat of his body through so many layers of clothing. I'm hyper aware of the way his fingers drum themselves on my shoulder and the way he smells like fresh snow.

I glance up at him and I wonder what he's thinking about when there's a small smile playing on his lips.

When he converses with the girl behind the counter, making her giggle over chocolate cake donuts and éclairs, I try not to be jealous of her blond hair and pink lips and the way Edward smiles at her. She hands me my food over the counter, not even glancing at me as Edward pays, telling her to keep the change.

We start to wander down the street and I'm missing the feel of his arm on my shoulders.

"Let's have a midnight picnic," he says, gesturing towards the trail leading into the park.

"What about wolves? Or bears?" I say and he laughs.

"Bella, we're literally right next to a McDonalds right now," he says.

"That doesn't matter!" I hiss and he shakes his head. I follow him down the path anyway, looking over my shoulder the whole time.

"You need to chill out," he laughs and we finally reach a spot he deems perfect. It's just a place under a tree where the moonlight is filtering through, just slightly. He sits down and pats the grass next to him. I take a seat tentatively, uncertain of, well, everything.

We eat our donuts and drink our milk and Edward asks me questions so I stop looking over my shoulder for animals every five seconds and we go back and forth for a while like that. We are different but in a way that makes it easy for my heart to flutter when he teases me about my fear of clowns and the way he listens intently about why my favorite movies are my favorites. Sitting under that tree as the temperature drops and our donuts are only crumbs, I watch Edward's eyes shine in the moonlight while I learn that he loves horror movies and that he's from Chicago. He tells me his favorite color is blue and I tell him that blue is generic and he throws a handful of grass at me. We wander further into the woods and Edward balances on fallen logs and the smell of grease from the McDonalds gets further and further away.

"I've never stolen anything," I say. We're onto a new game called _Things Bella Hasn't Done. _

"I stole a nerf gun when I was ten and I was so nervous about it I threw up right outside the store," he replies.

"I've never gone skinny dipping."

"I went with Emmett and these two girls we liked in high school and Emmett stole my clothes and made me walk home naked."

"I've never gone camping."

"That was another time Emmett stole my clothes."

"How many times has he stolen your clothes?" I laugh and the sound is too loud for the quiet hum of the night.

"I've lost count," he says with a shrug and this time both of us let out a laugh. We let it die slowly, the sound fading and the energy around us shifts with the drawing of warm breaths.

"Is there anything you haven't done?" I sigh and he stops and looks around.

"I've never been this far into these woods so late at night."

"I haven't either."

"Well."

"We're lost."

"It's possible."

He looks as if he's bracing himself for the panic to burst from every part of me, but it doesn't come. I want to tell him that I'd stay lost in these trees with him forever. That I'd forget everything except the lilt of his voice and the sight of his eyes. I think of track eight on his CD.

_Your heart is like an ocean breeze._

I want to ask him who he wrote that song—or all of his songs—about. The thought of him in love with someone back in Chicago makes my throat burn.

"Are you writing more music?" I ask instead. A dimpled smile appears on his face.

"Yeah, actually. We've been doing a lot of work on a new album. I think Jasper's gonna come home with me over winter break. We're trying to tour or something this summer. We've been sending demos to bands for months, begging them to let us tag along." He shakes his head like it's ridiculous to even imagine it working out.

My heart sinks like a stone because I know he'll get something. He's too good not to. But when he's gone, off reaching out to so many people through his words and the chords of his guitar, he's not going to be reaching back to me when he returns.

If he even returns at all.

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><p><strong>i'd love to hear your thoughts. <strong>

**til next time,**

**meg**


	11. chapter eleven

**thank you for the reviews, i love hearing what you all think. they're honestly such a motivator. **

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><p><strong>chapter eleven<strong>

When Edward has to be idle, he taps his fingers. He drums and drums and drums as I'm reading aloud from _Life After Life_ and when he's waiting for me to finish my bowl of soup at dinner and when Jasper is too busy making out with Alice to show up at their gig on time.

So right now, I can see him off stage, fingers going a mile a minute on his thigh. He catches my eye and they slow and his shoulders relax, just slightly. I throw him a thumbs up and he rolls his eyes.

It's almost time for them to go on and I'm getting my phone out to call Alice when I feel someone bump into my side. It's her, of course, and I see Jasper meet up with Edward, holding his hands up in apology.

"You have lipstick smeared on your chin," I say once I return my attention to her. She grins sheepishly, swiping at the spot.

"Edward's going to kill you both," I tell her and she just laughs. She and Jasper have been practically glued at the mouth for six weeks. I'm surprised she even let him go back to Texas without her for thanksgiving.

The lights dim before she can say anything and we start whistling. It's our fourth Avenir show but I still can't get used to how it feels to see Edward step onto the stage. It's this moment that I feel glad that Jacob declined my invitation to come with us tonight, claiming he wasn't feeling well. This is all mine now. I let my eyes close, waiting for the sound of his voice.

"We're Avenir, thanks for coming."

Ben counts to four and starts the beat, Edward and Jasper joining him a second later. I open my eyes again, ready for him.

His hair is flopping over his eyes as he focuses on how his fingers are arranging themselves on the neck of his guitar and when he leans into the microphone, my heart jumps to my throat. His eyelids are heavy, his lips so close to the mic.

_The feeling's old but new to me_

"Is this new?" Alice whispers and I nod, my heart hammering away.

_I guess I'm scared to death_

There's something about the way his voice is heavy, strained. There's so much emotion I feel like it's going to bowl me over.

_When I look at you, I'm caught off guard a time or two,_

He looks up and finds me. I'm right where I always am, hanging on his every word.

_I've been staring way too long and you're done talking_

I would give anything to kiss him. It's the first time I've admitted that to myself.

_Not to mention I've stopped breathing_

I'm such a mess

So am I, I mouth before I can stop myself and his eyes drift shut as he screams the last line.

_And I know you won't be mine_.

* * *

><p>Right before it's time to leave for winter break, Edward and I are sitting in his living room waiting for Rose and Emmett to meet us so we can all go to dinner. Oktoberfest went as planned. Since then, I think every night has been a sex night.<p>

"I'm just saying, it's a very underrated movie," Edward tells me, his head in my lap as he drums his fingers on his thighs.

"The remake of the _Pink Panther_?" I clarify.

"Yeah, the one with Beyoncé. A cinematic classic."

"I can never tell if you're just messing with me," I sigh, tapping my shoes together as my feet are propped up on the coffee table. I check my phone. They should've been downstairs five minutes ago.

"Should I go get them?" I ask.

"Only if you want to be scarred for life. Alice and Jasper are going to be late anyways. Is that Jessica girl coming?"

"No," I say. Thankfully, she left two days ago.

"Oh, okay," he says and continues his drumming.

"Jasper and I have been talking about dropping out and focusing completely on Avenir," he tells me quietly after a moment of silence. I try to process this information.

"Why drop out?" I ask, my brow furrowing.

"I mean, the only way we're really going to get our name out there is through touring. And if we only do the summers…it's too much time between."

"But…what about school?"

"School isn't going to get me a record deal."

"Okay but what if that doesn't pan out," I say but I instantly regret it. He sits up immediately.

"Doesn't mean I don't want to give it my best shot, Bella," he says and I hear the hurt in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I mean, I think you guys are great, I don't doubt you I just…that's risky."

"You gotta take risks for the important stuff," he says and I close my eyes. I think of Jacob's plan, I think of my plan.

There's no chance to take, no risk.

Neither Jacob nor I are going to be living in a shitty studio apartment like my mom.

I look at Edward's messy hair, his torn up jeans and his scratched glasses. He's said he can get a new pair anytime; he just hasn't gotten around to it.

School is the only thing I know that won't let me down.

I think about the creative writing class I shouldn't take.

I feel like I'm going to rupture something I'm so frustrated. I want the security but does that mean I'm compromising happiness? Or will that security and stability bring happiness with it?

"Woah, who died?" Emmett's voice booms from the doorway. We're on opposite ends of the couch, our expressions grim.

"Are you ready to go?" Edward asks them, his voice low.

We follow them out the door, and I've never felt more distant from Edward Cullen. We sit at the Mexican restaurant downtown, the inside warm as snow starts to fall outside. Everyone is smiling except for me and except for Edward.

Alice toasts us with a diet coke, her high voice telling us that she's going to miss us over the next month. She's the closest one to me in terms of distance; her home is a little south of Seattle. We're hoping to get together at least once.

Rose checks the weather every five minutes, freaking out that her flight back to New York tomorrow afternoon is going to be cancelled at any moment.

The boys laugh over their plans, they'll all be spending the break in Chicago together. Jasper's setting up camp at Edward's parents' house as they work on their next album.

I sit at the end of the table, far from Edward, and keep to myself. I'm quiet and anxious and I feel like I could cry at any moment.

I'm getting sick of myself. This wave of self-loathing crashes over me so hard that I get up from the table and stumble my way outside. My breathing is hard and my vision is blurring. The cold air helps but I'm still gasping, my hands shaking.

_Why can't you just be happy with what you have?_

_Why are you so afraid?_

_Just stop stop stop stop stop._

"Bella?"

It's Edward, his voice tentative. I can't turn around to face him, I can't look at him in the glow from the street lamp, with snow lightly falling on his shoulders, dampening his hair.

I can't look at the softness of his eyes, the way his brow is surely furrowed.

I feel his hand on my shoulder, the heat of his palm burning through the fabric.

"What's wrong?" he asks and I shake my head, teeth clenched. My heart is beating so fast I feel like it's going to burst.

"Breathe, Bella," he says and I try my best. I do. But then he pulls me into a hug and I practically hyperventilate. He's rubbing circles on my back and his scent surrounds me and I'm broken up and put together all in one moment.

"I'm sorry," I whimper. "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," he says softly. "I just don't want you to think less of me for the things I want. For who I am."

"I don't," I say but somewhere, burning deep inside myself, the guilt of a lie starts to spread.

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><p><strong>happy will come, i promise. B has some issues we need to sort through. <strong>


	12. chapter twelve

**thank you for all of your reviews xoxo**

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><p><strong>chapter twelve<strong>

_We've gotten at least three feet so far-E_

_I'm so jealous. It's just cold rain here-B_

_I wouldn't expect anything different from Forks-E_

I smile as I put my phone back into my pocket. I glance at my dad as he walks through the front door shaking rain from his coat. I watch the drops darken the rug in the hall.

"Hey, Bell," he says gruffly, stripping off the coat and stepping out of his boots.

"Hey," I say, my voice soft from not using it. "Dinner's ready. I made a roast."

"Are you sure you don't want to move back home?" he jokes and I roll my eyes. We sit at the small, wooden table in our kitchen, the light above us is too harsh and it washes everything out. My dad scoops roast and potatoes onto his plate as he tells me about his day. When he asks me about mine, I can only think back to my morning of sleeping in and my afternoon of flipping through the channels on TV. Jake wanted to hang out but I didn't feel like putting on a happy face for him like I have been the last few days. It's exhausting.

My dad and I fall into silence save for the scraping of forks and knives on plates and though he's finally home, the house has the sounds of another person echoing off the walls, I feel more alone than ever.

* * *

><p>"Sweetie, hope you're having a great Christmas. My gifts are coming soon, I promise."<p>

"It's okay, Mom. Hope your day is good too."

"Consider spending the New Year over here, okay? Phil's going to be out of town so it'll be just us girls."

I can't help but think that she's only inviting me so she doesn't have to spend the evening alone.

"I'll let you know what's going on," I say. "Jake's here, I have to go."

It's not a lie, I can hear him knocking on the front door. It's our annual gift exchange with a viewing of _Elf_ and leftover ham and mashed potatoes.

I find him grinning at me when I swing the door open and I try to remember a time when he used to walk right in, throwing a _hello_ over his shoulder at my dad.

"Jacob," my dad says gruffly. It doesn't faze Jake, he just nods at him, his hands behind his back and I make my way into the living room.

Dad disappears upstairs and Jacob grins, pulling a box from behind his back.

"I got you something," he says, shaking it. I watch the shiny red paper reflect the light from the floor lamp and I hear something rattle around inside.

"So I guess it's not fragile?" I say and he rolls his eyes as he makes his way over to the couch.

"Just open it," he laughs and I give him what I'd gotten a few days earlier. I watch as he tears at the newsprint to find a vintage book on auto repair—one that goes with the car he's fixing up. It's nothing compared to the small, silver ring with a stone that's a little dull but nice nonetheless.

"You know? Like my eyes?" he says, so proud of himself. I inspect it further, green and brown mixing together under the light.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

"I can't stay," he tells me but doesn't give a reason. I ignore the burn I feel in my chest. "But I just wanted you to have this. And I just, I don't know, I think I'm ready to give us another shot. If you are."

I take him in, the way he bites his lip nervously and the way he keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot until he decides to take a step forward.

"Don't leave me hanging," he says and I feel his lips press lightly against mine before he walks out the door.

This was what I wanted right? It's finally time to get things back on track.

But my phone dings and I know it's Edward.

_You've got two weeks left to decide to take that poetry class. Tick tock. Oh, and Merry Christmas ya filthy animal.-E_

I know he's kidding, he's just giving me a hard time but it makes me feel like the world is caving in all around me, crushing me.

There's so much I want to say to him, I want to scream at him for making everything so complicated—for making me second guess _everything_.

Instead, I send him a quick _Merry Christmas_ and I set my phone down so it's only me standing in the center of the room the emptiness of the space closing in around me.

I take a breath.

* * *

><p>It takes forever to get to Tacoma. A three hour drive alone in my truck, the radio fading in and out miserably and all I have is an old <em>Mamas and the Papa<em>'s cassette tape stuck in the player. I focus on Cass Elliot's voice, and avoid all of my own thoughts, stepping around them carefully as I make my way down the highway.

I'd agreed to spend the new year with my mom in a desperate attempt to avoid Jacob's party invitation. I still haven't given him an answer and I feel incredibly guilty about it. But then I think of the lip gloss in his car and I feel sick.

My mom's apartment is just as I remember it. Graffiti next to the door proclaims that _yuppies can suck a dick_. I stare at it as I ring the bell for her to let me up. Is that like twenty years old? Do people still say _yuppies_?

There's a buzz and the door unlocks. I'm halfway upstairs when I hear a squeal and my mother is on the top of the landing, clapping her hands excitedly.

When I reach her, she pulls me into a hug, trying to work around my backpack. She smells like vanilla, like always and her curly hair is suffocating me.

"It's been so long, baby."

"I know," I say, trying to pull back but she keeps holding me tightly. When she does let me go, she smiles so brightly at me that I think I can see all of her teeth.

I follow her inside and her apartment is different than what I remember. It's sparser and cleaner and there are broken down boxes in the corner, next to the bed. The television is blaring and her computer is open on the table near the small kitchen space.

"Sorry about the mess," she says, her arms out, gesturing to the room. I want to tell her that the place is cleaner than I've ever seen but I wait for her to continue.

"We're in the process of moving," she explains, moving towards the oven. I watch her check whatever she's making and I try to process what she's said.

"Moving?"

"Oh, yes, we found a place in Jacksonville that's just _perfect_."

"Jacksonville? As in Florida?"

"Yes," she says and then her eyebrows pitch upwards. "I forgot to tell you that, didn't I?"

I just stare at her because _how the fuck could she forget to tell me _that.

"It's not set in stone yet," she says quickly. "I've been offered a job there."

"Oh," I say softly. I don't know why I'm reacting to her news like this—I should be glad, she'll be gone and busy with her new life and out of my hair.

But instead, I feel a little abandoned and…hurt.

I don't want to call Jacob—he'll tell me how I should feel. He'll tell me that I should be happy.

No, I want to call Edward. I want to hear his voice so I think back to the CD of his sitting on my dresser at home.

I want to scream and rage at her all night. I want to sulk when she sets up plates of appetizers and uncorks bottles of wine. I let her paint my fingernails silver and I smile and I pretend to be enjoying myself. In all honesty, this will probably be the last time I see her for a very long time.

So of course, instead of staying on the easy, lighthearted topics to end this time together on a good note, she brings up Jacob.

"Are you two still broken up?"

I ignore her question.

"That ring is nice. Is that from him?"

I shrug.

"Bella, come on."

I turn to her—I see her brows furrowed, the concern in her eyes and I just want to break down and let her hold me like she did when I was little and afraid of thunderstorms. I feel like I'm caught in one giant storm and I can't get a hold on anything.

I see her apartment in various shades of change around me, the fraying couch cushion under me and I miss the sound of Edward's voice so badly I feel it swallow me up and tears threaten to spill over my cheeks.

"Bella, are you okay?" she asks, her hand on my shoulder and I feel wetness on my cheek—I'm on the verge of a panic attack or something.

"You can talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what's going on."

But how can I tell my mother that she's made me so afraid of the world? She doesn't realize that she's done this though and I'd have no idea how to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to see her eyes shift downwards, her mouth spilling out apologetic but defensive statements.

It's like I'm being torn in half and everything I do to stitch myself up is falling flat.

For now, I just let her rub my shoulder while we watch the ball drop in New York, crowds filling the icy streets.

Jacob texts me and I ignore it, feeling like a total bitch but I don't have the energy to think about him. I get a video from Emmett—I can see Edward and Jasper holding guitars, their eyes bleary and hair messy.

"This is a cover," Jasper begins and they both laugh easily. I watch Edward's fingers find their places on the strings and his voice comes over softly and he's smiling and Jasper is nodding his head, finding the beat.

"_This must be it, welcome to the new year."_

I suck in a breath and my mom wanders back into the room, her hair damp from the shower.

"_I'm not smiling behind this fake veneer."_

"What are you watching?"

"A video some friends of mine sent me. They're in a band." She moves closer, looking over my shoulder so she can get a better view while Jasper chimes in, both of them harmonizing and goosebumps show up on my arms.

"_Why won't she listen to me?"_

"They're really good," she murmurs. I just nod, I can't say anything.

"_Heads up Damage Control, there's a ring around her finger."_

Edward's voice gets more intense, it cracks a little when he sings the next line.

"_Last chance for changing lanes, and you missed it by a mile."_

When the song ends, their smiles are back and Jasper is getting up, heading towards Emmett. As the camera starts to move, Edward's crooked grin grows wider.

"Happy New Year, Bella," he says but the frame flips and he's gone.

"He's cute," my mom tells me and I refuse to look at her—I can feel her questions about him radiating off of her.

"Yeah," is all I say and I lay down on the couch, ready to sleep. The words from the song keep echoing in my head and it only makes me more agitated.

Why won't I listen to him?

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><p><strong>don't hate my poor B, she's trying. she'll get there. love you all, until next time. <strong>


	13. chapter thirteen

**weeee early update thank you for reading i really appreciate it, you keep me going. **

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><p><strong>chapter thirteen<strong>

The night before I go back to school, I make a compromise with myself. One that means dropping another accounting class, one that is offered again in the summer, and signing up for the writing class that Edward wants me to take.

I avoid telling anyone about my mom moving—though my dad must know. He is careful around me and it makes me nervous. I haven't spoken to her since I left her apartment on New Year's Day. She promised that the next time we saw each other, it would be on a beach but didn't tell me how far in the future it would be.

When I'm back in my dorm room at Forks, I'm itching to see Edward Cullen but he won't be here until tomorrow night. Instead, I pace my room and unpack; trying to make it feel like it's been empty for the last three weeks. Rose should be here in a few hours and Alice is sending me minute by minute text updates of some meeting she's stuck in for the spring musical. I can hear Jessica moving around in the next room but I ignore her pop music and off-key singing.

I rewatch the video of Edward and Jasper singing about a million times and it helps a little.

When I tell Edward I've signed up for the writing class over a text message, he calls me immediately.

"That's amazing news, Bella," he says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm going to be in classes all summer to make up for it," I explain and he sighs.

"You're no fun."

"I know." He laughs and I listen as it fades slowly.

"I can't wait to be back there," he says softly and this time, I'm the one to laugh.

"What?" he says defensively and I shake my head though I know he can't see me.

"It's just, why would you be excited to come back to _Forks_? It's dark and rainy and too much school."

"It's not all bad. There are some things that make it better. Some things that I really like about it."

"Oh yeah? Like what, the chicken fingers in the caf?"

"Well duh, but I mean, I don't know. I miss working on homework with you and—"

But he's cut off because Alice is suddenly in the room, talking quickly and angrily.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I gotta go," I say and Edward says his goodbye. He hangs up first and Alice is still talking.

"…and to make it all worse, I have fucking _Jen_ on my crew," she's ranting, throwing herself on the futon.

"I'm sorry," I say automatically, shoving my phone into my back pocket.

"It's fine, just irritating as fuck. She can barely cut in a straight line let alone sew together a dress."

"That's annoying."

"Isn't it? God, whatever. We need wine. Let's get wine. I have a fake ID now; we're going to get wine."

We bundle up and trek to the small convenience store, our breath coming in quick, foggy puffs.

"Where did you get a fake ID?" I ask as we near the store.

"Some cokehead I went to high school with. He makes them out of his basement."

I stare at her as she hands it to me. It looks pretty legit, I guess.

We get three bottles of chardonnay with the highest alcohol volume we can find and by the time Rose trudges back into the room, we've killed one of them and are laying on the floor, talking about our breaks. Rose doesn't even bother unpacking, she just lays down next to us and takes a long drink from the freshly opened second bottle.

Alice admits that she's in love with Jasper.

Rosalie shows off the secret tattoo she got, just a small rose behind her left ear.

I blurt out that my mom is moving to Florida.

"She just told you, like, in passing?" Rosalie clarifies her eyes wide. I nod and Alice groans.

"Okay that's fifty shades of fucked up," she says and passes me the bottle.

"Jacob wants to get back together," I add, just needing to get it all out there.

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Alice cries as Rose rolls her eyes dramatically. "So are you guys together?"

"I told him I had to think about it," I tell them and they both exhale.

"What do you want to do?" Rose asks calmly, sympathetically.

"I don't know." And for some reason I feel like I'm going to cry.

"I feel like that kind of gives you your answer," Alice says quietly.

"What?"

"I mean, if you really wanted to be with him, you'd be with him."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Is it though?"

I consider this, I try not to sound defensive when I answer her but the tears come too quickly.

"We grew up together," I wail. "We had a plan."

We did and it was a damn good plan, too. Finish college, move to Seattle or Portland and get our stable jobs and our nice house and have a nice wedding and have two kids and as I list it out in my head now, it's ridiculous. We're twenty years old for god's sake.

We don't know anything at all.

"You can't have a plan for everything, Bella. Things change. You can't mold your life to fit a certain preplanned path—you have to do what's right for you. You have to do what makes you happy."

"I'm scared," I admit and saying out loud makes it feel truer than it ever has.

"So is everyone else," Alice says.

"I don't want to end up like my mom," I whisper and fresh tears fall.

"But Bella," Rose begins. "Have you ever though that maybe your mom is _happy_? Like, she doesn't want all that stability that you put on such a pedestal? My parents are both lawyers and have a house way too big for the two of them and they're fucking miserable."

"What?" I whimper, feeling like I've just been told that my favorite celebrity has a drug addiction.

"Happiness isn't defined by one set of rules, B," Alice chimes in, her small hand rubbing circles on my back. "You just have to…try. Take chances to find what it means for you."

"I mean, are you _happy _with accounting?"

I don't have to think about it, blame it on the alcohol or the buildup of stress but my answer comes out before I can stop it.

"No, I hate it. I hate all of it."

"Well, that's a starting place. Take a deep breath and drink some wine."

So after another bottle, I've come up with a semblance of a plan. A plan that probably involves kissing Edward Cullen.

But Jess comes in as soon as I'm about to tell Alice and Rose and she spies our wine and goes for it, recapping her whole break.

"I mean, yeah the Coach bag was nice but honestly the real gift this holiday season was texting Edward every day."

Alice chokes on her drink and I feel my stomach sink to my feet.

"Really?" Rose asks skeptically. Jess holds up her phone and sure enough, there are messages. Tons of them. Way more than I have on my phone.

"I'm totally going to ask him out. He's taking too long, you know?"

We all stare at her and she takes another drink of the wine that definitely isn't hers.

My plan goes out the window, the little feeling of relief I'd found is swept out from beneath me.

* * *

><p>I don't see Edward until breakfast on the day that classes start—and we hadn't planned to meet up. I'm sitting at our usual table by the window when he sits next to me, sighing groggily into his oatmeal.<p>

"Jetlag is real," he mutters and the sight of his bedhead and familiar flannel shirt makes chest feel like it's caving in.

"I'm sorry," I say softly. He looks up at me, squinting his tired eyes as he studies my face. I'm working hard to keep it expressionless but I'm probably doing a terrible job.

"What's wrong?" he asks but before I can answer him, Jessica Stanley's voice practically crashes into us and I jump, nearly out of my chair while Edward holds a hand out to steady me.

"Hi Edward!" she calls and we both turn to see her in a fuzzy pink sweater, standing on her tip toes and waving excitedly. Edward waves, amused and she comes towards us, putting her bag down right next to him.

"I'll be right back, I want to hear _all _about your flight," she says and he laughs, nodding. When she's gone I let out a shaky breath.

"How is she so chipper in the mornings?" he asks, grinning and I want to throw up.

"She's gonna ask you out," I blurt and the smile on his face grows bigger. I feel like he's about to crush me.

"What? Are you serious?" he laughs.

"Yes," I say, avoiding his eyes. "That's pretty exciting for you, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I mean, I'm happy for you. You guys would be really cute together." The lie burns painfully in my throat.

"Really," he says flatly.

"Yes."

"So you're saying that I should go for it?" he asks quietly and I still can't look at him.

"Totally," I say with a forced smile, though I'm on the verge of tears. "I gotta go to class, I'll see you later."

But I don't go to class, I head downtown—taking a different path.

A path for myself.

* * *

><p><strong>SO MANY THINGS<strong>


	14. chapter fourteen

**woooo i'm on a roll, i can't stop writing tbh. i loved hearing your feedback xo**

* * *

><p><strong>chapter fourteen<strong>

Edward doesn't say anything about my haircut when I walk into class the next day. In fact, I haven't seen or heard from him since breakfast yesterday. When I go to sit in the empty seat next to him, a tall girl with a Weepies t shirt on sits there instead and I'm left to sit diagonally behind them. He glances at me when I pass but he doesn't smile. He doesn't say hi. He doesn't say anything at all.

It makes me uncomfortable and I heaviness weighing down my heart.

I've been feeling lighter since I skipped an Economics class to get my thirteen inches chopped off-finally. The hairdresser tried to talk me out of it, warning me that people go into some sort of shock when they cut off that much hair at once. But I insisted and it felt good to be doing something for myself—something that I really wanted. So now, fidgeting over my blunt bob and bangs that Rose and Alice both told me looked amazing, I'm less sure of myself.

This haircut is the first thing I've done in a long, long time that was just because I _wanted_ to.

It felt like the start of something scary but _good._

But for the rest of the week, I barely hear from Edward.

Still, I move forward. There's still more of this path to go.

* * *

><p>"What did you do?"<p>

Jacob is trying to keep his expression neutral but he's failing miserably. My fingers brush through my new bangs that fall high above my eyebrows.

"It's a haircut," I say and for once, I don't care about his disappointment. He reaches out to touch it and I let him, his hand reaching for the straightened ends that fall just below my chin.

"It's…short," he says.

"Isn't it great?" I grin and his hesitation tells me that he doesn't think it is but it doesn't make my smile waver.

And this simple fact is why I asked Jacob if we could meet up after all of his classes finished.

He insisted that he come to me instead of my suggestion to meet somewhere in the middle. We walk to the coffee shop downtown, my heart pounding nervously as we go.

Because I'm about to tell him that I can't get back together with him.

No, that I don't _want_ to get back together with him.

It feels like an impulse decision but I know deep down that it isn't.

Things with Jake ended the first time we ended things. It's time to grow in our own different directions and I'm really hoping he knows that.

As I was getting all of that length and weight and dullness cut off, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a smile fixed to my face and I hadn't even noticed it. Emotion swelled in my chest.

Jake hasn't given me that feeling in what seems like years.

I think he realizes what's happening when I buy his mocha and lead him to a more secluded corner near the window.

"You're kind of freaking me out," he says with a laugh and I try to smile but it feels more like a grimace instead.

"Jake…" I trail off and his laughter fades.

"I'm guessing you've made a decision?"

"Yes," I say, bracing myself, talking myself into doing this—the scariest thing I've ever done. But I move forward. I need to keep moving forward.

Jack puts his head in his hands as I speak too quickly, my voice too high.

"I don't think we should get back together."

He's silent for a very long time and I bite my thumbnail, ready to just run away and hide in my bed forever.

But then, he looks up, his eyes sad but understanding.

"You're probably right," he sighs and I exhale, my heart unclenches itself.

"I am?"

"I mean, we broke up for a reason the first time I guess."

"Yeah."

Silence falls awkwardly over us for a few minutes as we both process what's happening. He speaks first and for that I am grateful.

"Keep in touch still okay? I think I'll care about your forever," he says, standing up, not even bothering to drink his coffee. Mine sits full to the brim on the table next to it. The sight makes my stomach hurt so I turn away, answering him.

"I will. I think it's impossible for us not to care, you know? It's been a long time."

We both start to tear up because this is it—the official end.

There was no fight, like I was sort of deep down hoping for.

Because if there was an argument, then it would mean we would've had something worth fighting for.

This solidifies that we're doing the right thing—we both know it- but it doesn't make it less sad.

He pulls me into a hug and I take it because I feel like it might be the last one I get. Maybe for just a really long time, or maybe forever. When we break apart, I can see Edward through the window, across the street and staring at us. I'm about to wave but Jacob speaks again.

"Does this mean you'll stop avoiding me now?" he laughs and it makes me smile. A real, warm smile.

"I'm really sorry about that," I admit and he punches me gently in the arm.

"I'll see you around, Bell," he says and I follow him outside, hoping to find Edward in that same spot but once the cold air hits us, I can see that he's gone.

* * *

><p>"Hell has officially frozen over," Rose says, barging into the room, back from her ice cream run (essential to a break up, apparently). Alice and I turn to her, already in our pajamas, terrible comedies queued up in an attempt to keep the mood light. Though all of this is set up for grieving or whatever, it feels more like a celebration.<p>

Loss still sits heavy in my chest- the break is so fresh- but I'm relieved more than anything.

I know the choice I made was right.

"What happened?" Alice asks and it breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Jess asked Edward out."

Alice and I both gasp.

"And he said _yes_."

"WHAT," Alice and I roar at the same time. Rose rips the top off the pint of rocky road and hands it to us.

"That was my reaction when Emmett told me," she says, shaking her head. My ears are ringing and I feel vaguely like I'm going to throw up.

"Okay, stop and rewind. Give us all the details."

Rose takes a deep breath and doesn't begin until I take a bite of the ice cream.

"So _apparently_, according to Emmett, Jess ran into Edward by his house a little earlier today to ask him out to coffee. But he said he didn't want any coffee which is weird because Edward _lives_ off of coffee."

"Anyways," Alice interrupts because Rose was getting sidetracked as per usual.

"Sorry, okay, so then she was like, well, 'do you want to go grab some dinner at the Grill' and he said 'sure' and so now they're going on a _date_ tonight."

"He really pays attention," I mutter, trying to be funny because if I don't try to be _anything_ I will surely collapse face first in this melting rock road.

"Emmett's a huge gossip," she says, rolling her eyes and Alice lets out a laugh.

"Never would have guessed," Alice says, shaking her head.

Then they both turn to me.

"I was so sure he was gonna ask _you_ out, B," Rose says, eyebrows furrowed. I feel my heart, my stomach, my _everything_ sink.

I imagine getting asked out on a date by Edward Cullen. His confident voice, the way he'd drum his fingers on his thighs while he waits for an answer.

"I guess you were wrong," I tell her quietly, ignoring the look she shares with Alice when I turn back to the television, pressing play.

I try to focus on the movie but it's hard when I can hear Jessica getting ready next door and calling Alice in for an opinion on an outfit. My eyes don't move from the screen when I hear her door slam closed and Alice comes back, commenting on how much eye liner Jess has on.

The only time I break my concentration on is to wash my face. It's getting late. I want to take some unnecessary cold medicine and go to bed early.

I let the water get to hot so it burns my hands a little when I splash it on my face. I feel so drained and just…off. A year ago, I would have called Jake and he would've told me that everything was going to be okay.

I could go talk to Rose about it or Alice about it, but after reassuring them that I was fine, they went out to find their significant others.

But the only person I want to talk to is out on a date with the bubbly girl next door.

So hours later, I'm unfortunately still awake when I hear a key scraping at my door. I open it, ready to make fun of Rose for being too drunk to get inside but instead, I find Jess, one hand reaching towards the door. Her other hand is attempting to tangle itself in Edward Cullen's hair. She's angled for a kiss and he's pulling her away from my door.

His eyes jump to meet mine and I feel like I could die on the spot.

"I—I tried to tell her she had the wrong room," he says softly and I just shake my head. _No biggie_. Jess giggles and I've known her long enough to recognize her drunk laugh.

I want to ask him why he said yes to that date, why he's hardly spoken to me in days. I want to tell him that I miss hearing his voice and that I want to hear what he has so far for his new album.

I want to tell him that the biggest reason I couldn't get back with Jacob is that I'm falling in love with somebody else. Somebody who terrifies and electrifies me.

Somebody I'm starting to see is worth taking chances for.

But now, all those words seem useless.

So I climb into bed and I try to learn how to be alone.

I call my mom.

* * *

><p><strong>yay b is figuring some stuff out yay anyways this just has like 4-5 more chapters or so left (including an epilogue) so that's happening. <strong>

**i'm currently working on a oneshot that i'm kind of super proud of so when this finishes be on the look out for that. **

**HAPPY AUTUMN! HAPPY OCTOBER. **

**meg**


	15. chapter fifteen

**i'm sorry for taking so long and for this chapter being so short.**

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><p><strong>chapter fifteen<strong>

My mother answers on the first ring. It's late and I'm breathing unevenly and I can tell she's freaking out.

"Bella? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Her voice is frantic and I can hear her sheets rustling around her. I imagine her throwing her shoes on and grabbing her keys, wasting no time to get to me.

Because as much as I might resent her, as much as I want to hate her—she's never intentionally ever done anything wrong to me. She loves me and it makes me feel horrifically guilty.

A sob escapes my throat before I can stop it.

"Baby?" she asks, her voice small.

I feel my chest constricting and releasing these violent cries and over and over I'm telling her that I'm sorry.

"Sorry for being afraid, sorry for being mean, sorry for being the shittiest daughter in the world."

I'm crying and hiccupping and snot is everywhere but my mom is shushing me and trying to soothe me from three hours away.

"I'm coming up there," she tells me softly and no matter how much I protest, she's knocking on my door at four in the morning wearing a bathrobe and rain boots, her hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail.

I stay curled on the futon, wrapped in my blanket and somehow tears are still falling because Edward Cullen is somewhere in the snowy night and I'm too petrified to do anything about it.

He could be next door with Jess.

He could be asleep in his bed.

He could be strumming his guitar, writing songs about bubble gum voices.

Either way.

My mom is clueless to all of this. She knows nothing about me. "What's going on?"

How do I tell her that I'm terrified?

Of every uncertainty in the world?

That I potentially misunderstood all of her time going from place to place, living paycheck to paycheck—that it was what _she wanted to do_? Because it made her _happy_?

How do I explain how skewed my view of the whole world is because of this baseless anxiety?

That all I've done to allow myself to experience my distorted visions of happiness ended up making me fucking _miserable_?

I don't have those words inside of me.

So I cry.

I cry and cry and cry while she rubs my back and tries to get me to talk and tells me that everything is okay but I don't know how any of that could be true.

It doesn't take more than an hour to get my breathing level, though a little ragged. My eyes are so puffy I can barely see and my throat is dry.

My mom's sympathetic stare lets me know that I must look as shitty as I feel.

"Okay, so," she begins after a moment or two and I brace myself for her questioning.

Instead, she only sighs, "I'm sorry, baby. Whatever is going on, I'm sorry. And I'm so sorry I haven't been around enough, I haven't been here for you like I should've. I know that."

I gaze up at her, feeling like I'm five years old again and she's about to give me a life lesson

"Mom. I don't know how to be…how to be."

She stares at me, her eyebrows pitched upwards.

"Like, I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing," I whimper and to my extreme horror, my mom _laughs _at me.

She keeps laughing, "Baby, nobody knows what they're doing. Hell, I'm forty two and I don't even know what I'm doing."

"This isn't funny," I wail and she keeps laughing, though she puts her arms around me.

"You just gotta be you. Do what you want. You know I'm a big advocate of that."

"That's what Rose says," I grumble.

"I knew I liked her."

"Whatever."

I'm playing the part of a petulant teenager and I'm forcing a smile away.

"Do you remember my favorite quote?" she asks and I play dumb but of course I do. She had painted it on the wall of her living room in that little red house by the river so many years ago.

"Eleanor Roosevelt said that, 'The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.'"

I join in by the end of the quote and she beams proudly at me.

"She was a smart lady," Mom says, her eyebrows raised and I let out a soft laugh.

We haven't been like this since the red house.

And I can't help but wonder if it'll stay like this when she's 3,000 miles away.

I find myself hoping that it does.

I want to hang onto this for as long as possible so when the sun comes up, we go to the coffee shop downtown, avoiding the spot by the window where things ended with Jacob, but opting for a place near the fireplace. We sip our large, black coffees and look over my schedule for this semester—we look at the catalog of creative writing classes and she fawns excitedly over the course descriptions and I try to squash my anxiety over these new choices. I need to stand up to it.

I need to do what I want.

And when Edward Cullen comes in with his hair damp and frozen at the tips, going behind the counter and grabbing an apron from the barista, I stop mid-sentence because his eyes find me like there's a magnetic pull between the two of us.

It can't be stopped.

I feel myself burn under his gaze and I feel like I haven't seen him in months. I miss him. I miss who I am when I'm with him.

I lift my hand to wave at him but he turns his back.

My mom must notice the way my face falls, the way I can't quite keep the frown off my lips. She glances over her shoulder to the bronze haired boy making an espresso.

She must remember him because she asks, "The one with the song?"

I can only nod.

"Go talk to him," she urges and I must look horrified because her expression softens. "Remember Eleanor."

I do.

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><p><strong>more soon xxo<strong>


	16. chapter sixteen

**sorry this took so long, i'm trash it's fine**

**thank you all for your feedback, can't tell you how much it means to me. **

* * *

><p><strong>chapter sixteen<strong>

"Hi."

Edward doesn't turn around right away. He lets my greeting hang in the air and I watch him square his shoulders before he faces me.

"Hey." His voice is flat and I'm tempted to run away but I force my feet to stay where they are. I try to ignore the fact that my mom is probably staring at both of us in the dim light of this coffee shop.

I go the route of small talk because I don't know what else to do, starting with a desperate, "How's it going?"

"Fine."

Okay, not giving me a lot to go off of.

What would Eleanor say?

Probably something way more eloquent than I could ever manage. So I say, "I think I'm changing my major."

His eyes meet mine briefly—but it's still enough to make my stomach flutter.

"To creative writing," I continue slowly. I wait for his ecstatic response—the one where he congratulates me and pulls me into his arms and spins us around.

But my hopes are dashed when he tells me, "Oh, good. That's good."

I feel myself start to deflate.

"Did I do something wrong?" I finally ask, my voice harsher than I'd planned. I sound almost _shrill_ and I imagine Eleanor cringing at it.

"I can't do this right now, Bella."

"Well when would be a good time for you?" My tone is sarcastic as it rivals his sternness.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Your boyfriend must be looking for you."

"What?" I cry, my frustration with him reaching its peak. Screw Eleanor.

"I saw you guys here last week, you don't need to act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I don't know why you'd go back to that guy after all the shit he's pulled with you."

I'm fuming, I'm hurt and I'm still in the midst of a mental break.

Which is how I justify me throwing my hands in the air and screaming, "WE WERE BREAKING UP FOR GOOD, YOU ASS."

His mouth opens and closes briefly and I'm flying out the door, angry tears fighting their way down my cheeks.

I hear my mom calling out behind me but I'm storming down to campus, cold wind biting at my ears.

There's nowhere left to go with this.

I feel panic filling up my throat and chest and head and I'm just trying to hide. So I turn around, I head down the main street and I find that little area Edward and I got to know each other. That night seems so long ago.

I text my mom when I pass McCallister's, telling her that I'm sorry and that I'm okay and once I round the corner of the McDonalds, into the trees and the light covering of snow. I let myself curl up next to a tree, my breaths coming in ragged bursts.

"Why do you keep running from me?"

"I'm not dating him. Not that it's any of your goddamn business."

"I shouldn't have said that."

"You shouldn't have."

"What's going on?"

"Why did you go out with Jess?"

"Because you told me to, Bella." His eyes are sad and he's on his knees in front of me, his cheeks pink from the cold and his hair windblown into beautiful chaos.

"That's not a great reason," I snort through my tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks softly and his hand reaches out like he wants to wipe my tears away but he hesitates. "Don't cry. You don't need to cry."

"I'm trying," I wail. "I'm trying so hard but it isn't working."

"What?"

"To be the kind of girl you'd want. The kind of girl who is happy and brave and one who doesn't hate herself so much. I'm trying so hard, Edward."

And then the unthinkable happens.

Edward Cullen _laughs_ at me.

It takes everything in me to not bury myself under the cold, snowy dirt.

"What is _wrong with you_?" I cry and his laughing fades into this soft smile as he scoots closer to me.

"Why are you trying to change yourself for…me? Bella, you're…you're already perfect. Hasn't it been obvious that I've been following you around like a puppy dog since that night at the theater? Fuck, Bella, half the songs on our new album are about you."

I can't deny that half the poems and stories and journal in my notebook are about his eyes and his easy laugh and his rough voice.

"What?" I whisper and his smile is larger now, it's bright and full and all for me and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and my nerves feel electrified. "You went out with Jess."

"Because what was I supposed to do? You told me to go for it—you were still seeing that guy. I was driving myself crazy, I couldn't do it anymore."

"I wasn't seeing him," I clarify but he shakes his head.

"But you were thinking about it."

It isn't a lie.

"You scared me. You still scare me," I say.

My own truth.

"I don't try to," he murmurs and he's so, so close to me, I can feel his breath on my cheek.

"You're just amazing," I continue. "And I'm not. You're just…you're unpredictable. Your life is unstable."

"Yeah, and you're a calculating nutcase," he teases. I think. "but that's what I love about you—it's what makes you _you_."

My heart practically flies out of my chest at the word _love_.

"Edward?" I ask and I tilt my head up, my eyes trying their best not to flutter closed.

"Bella?" he breathes back, and my eyes lose their battle.

There's no answer to either of our questions, just his lips finally landing on mine, tenderly and warm. I feel my body come alive—every part of me buzzing with warmth and lust and _happiness_. His hand finds its way to my waist while my fingers tangle themselves in his hair at last. He sighs into my mouth and the opening of his lips lets me taste him, our tongues finding each other as he pulls me closer.

I think of track eight.

"_My arms are open wide,_" I whisper and he makes a sound at the back of his throat at hearing his own words in my mouth.

And my arms are open wide—my hands may shake while they are but I'm trying.

When his lips find mine again, I know it's worth it.

* * *

><p><strong> can i get a finally?<strong>


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